


The Tail of the Dragon

by MistressOfMalplaquet



Series: Natasha of Asgard [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Angrboda, Complete, F/F, F/M, Hey if Sting can do it then so can the god of mischief, Jane's a BAMF, Lady Loki, Lokitty, Natasha's a BAMF!, Oh hell everyone is a BAMF, Romance, Sif's a BAMF, Tantric Sex, Trolls, lots of smut, passionate necking, swordplay AND bedplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 72,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfMalplaquet/pseuds/MistressOfMalplaquet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Q Word. Natasha and Loki have rekindled their affair, but they must confront ancient magic as well as the delicate matter of not killing each other. Blackfrost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lovebite

**Author's Note:**

> The Tail of The Dragon is a sequel to The Q Word, already published. You can read this separately, but I will reference Q in Dragon. Of course, I do not own the characters - I'm just putting them all together in a dark closet to see what will happen.
> 
> As always, thanks to my readers and reviewers. Writing is glorious, but feedback is divine.

1\. Lovebite

* * *

Firing range.

Gym.

Vodka.

Solitude.

Shuffle, repeat. It was Natasha’s life, the one she had chosen. Each day she bugged Fury to send her on a case, any mission at all. Nothing would be too small, she insisted.

“Our case load is pretty light, to be honest,” he said, “thanks to the Clerkenwell takedown, as well as the Nigerian sex ring and Midwest drugs busts…”

Natasha spun on her heel and left the office. She knew exactly why those cases were closed, and the reason was being held in a deep dungeon in Asgard - or so she assumed. It was the same reason she practiced in the firing range until her arms shook from weariness, the same reason she downed drink after drink alone in her room or at a local bar at night.

Her reflection stared back at her from the window in the door to Fury’s office as soon as it closed on her. She had given up looking for anything more in mirrors and reflecting glass – now, like always, the only she saw was her own face, pale and solemn.

She went to the gym, pulled off her jacket, and slung it in a corner. Not bothering to change the rest of her clothes, she stretched before starting a series of drunken boxing moves ending in a series of whirling leaps designed to take down a group coming at her from behind.

The exercise pounded her body, and grimly she repeated the familiar routines over and over again. When she was out of breath, it still wasn’t enough; she moved to the bags, to the treadmill, to the track around the gym to bring herself to the point of exhaustion.

As she ran, she tried to drive a succession of images out of her mind: green eyes, looking down at her tenderly. An intelligent mouth, laughing at something she just said. Dark hair, spilling over white shoulders.  Even teeth, bared as they bit into her neck. On the treadmill she ran faster and faster, but she couldn’t decide whether she was chasing or escaping those memories.

When at last her legs trembled from the long workout, she picked up her jacket and headed back to her room. There she took a long shower, put on pajamas, and ate half a leftover burrito from her fridge while she checked her messages.

Nothing in her inbox that was out of the ordinary. She knew it would be the case, so why did she feel disappointment hit her like a left hook to the gut?

As soon as she started in on the vodka, she knew the evening would be over. The trick was to drink quickly so she didn’t have time to catch a buzz and become sentimental. Instead, her routine was to chug as much as she could at one time; once reality blurred she had a chance of falling asleep.

First, however, she had to check in on the Petrovitch Foundation. It was founded by the very being she was working so hard to forget, as a good-bye gift when Loki was forced to return to Asgard. Natasha was trying to ramp up the staff so the group could continue its expansion into several other countries; her goal was to block sex slavery from both ends of its ugly pipeline, cutting off the money lifeline for the groups who thrived on it.

Her search for a good manager to run the group had gone nowhere; the latest candidate had been won to an oil tanker business with more money. She cursed him and the company, sighed, and sent orders to continue the search. Without a CEO the group would fall apart like a slowing solar system; the components would go wheeling off into space. The very thought was unacceptable.

That done, Natasha went to the freezer and removed the vodka. She sat on the couch, surfing the web while she drank steadily straight from the neck of the bottle. It wasn’t elegant, but it got the job done.

* * *

 

An hour later, she fell into bed. Her gun went under the pillow, the phone glowed on the table by her bed. She had dulled her senses enough to fall straight into a stupor, a velvet darkness tinged with flashes of green light.

“Darling,” someone breathed in her ear, “you simply cannot go on like this.”

Natasha felt her body twitch, shift in the sheets, but she was too deeply asleep to wake up. “‘M fine,” she mumbled, before a pair of cool lips descended onto hers, and a delicious tongue surged into her mouth.

She moaned and held out a hand, drew Loki closer. In her fevered dream, their bodies clung together, rolled onto the floor, legs tangled together. “You cannot escape me,” he said in an intense whisper. “You are mine. Now that we are lovers, you truly are mine. I will never let you go, do you mark me? No matter what happens to either of us, your fate and mine are entangled. And nothing – _nothing_ will change the fact that we are meant to be thus.”

Her brow furrowed and she meant to argue that she was her own person and belonged to no one, but Loki’s lips claimed hers again. Her thighs loosened, his hips rolled down to meet hers. The dizzying length of him plunged inside her, and she thought of nothing else.

* * *

 

A steady beeping woke her. Natasha groaned, sat up, and looked at her phone. At least she had slept all night, a dark slumber without any dreams she could remember.

The small screen showed she had an appointment. It would be a chance to get the hell out of Stark Towers and breathe some air that wasn’t recycled in an H vac unit.

She opened up the calendar app and cursed softly in Russian. Her date was with Dr. Jane Foster, and panic jittered through her stomach. _Why_ had she contacted the scientist in the first place? At the time it had seemed like a good idea to talk to the one person who was in the same position she was. But now she wondered what the hell she was going to say. “Help, I’ve got boyfriend problems, and since we’re both dating demigods from a different dimension, I thought you could, like, relate and give me some pointers?”

 _Ugh._ Natasha made a face and immediately decided to cancel. If she phoned straight away it wouldn’t be too rude.

She placed the call but got a polite recording stating Dr. Foster was unavailable. There was no option for leaving a message. With a long sigh, Natasha climbed out of bed and resigned herself to going through with it.

In the bathroom as she waited for the shower to warm up, one look in the mirror told her she needed some emergency repair. Her skin was paler than usual, and her hair had grown quickly to fall below her shoulders. She gathered it up in one hand and frowned as she leaned closer to the mirror.

There was a small red oval on her neck. If it weren’t impossible, she would call it a lovebite.

Natasha snorted. _Probably scratched myself during a workout,_ she thought. She climbed into the shower and let the hot water sluice away her worries.

As she washed, dried off, and got dressed, she felt the familiar burn of her muscles, hurting from the intense workouts she pushed on herself. There was another ache, though, a familiar pain she thought she wouldn’t feel again for a long while. _I feel like I spent the night with…_ She didn’t want to admit it to herself.

She grabbed her guns, some money, and her phone. In the elevator down, she checked her text messages: Fury still had nothing for her. Clint was looking forward to having dinner the following week. A quick note from Jane Foster, acknowledging their appointment.

There was also a text from Anzhela, her only living relative _. Hey, Aunt Natasha – just wanted to say hello and send hugs._

Her finger hovered over the screen. At last she typed _Hello._ Natasha had no idea what else to write, so finally she hit send.

By this time she was out of the Tower, on the street. She trolled the streets, searching for caffeine and calories. After that, the job was to kill the hours until she could meet with Jane.

* * *

 

As the shadows streaked across the streets, she ran into the tiny park, breathless and late. Her intention had been to buy some clothes, maybe a pair of shoes, but as usual she ended up with a new weapon instead.

She caught sight of Jane Foster at once. The woman sat on a bench, intent on a notebook in her hand. Natasha, who had fired a gun at an Elder god and faced down entire lines of assassins, hesitated and felt her palms grow damp at the sight.

Just as she was about to escape and send an apologetic text, Jane looked up and smiled. “Are you Natasha?” she asked in a pleasant, low voice.

“Yes.” Natasha stood in front of her, still nonplused. “Sorry to keep you waiting; I saw something in a store I just had to buy.”

Jane’s eyes crinkled. “Were you late? I didn’t even notice; once I got going on a string worldsheet theory I lost track of time.”

She indicated the bench, and slowly Natasha sat down, trying to imagine what on earth they could have a conversation about. “String worldsheet?”

“Yes. It could explain some anomalies I have had under observation.”

“Are you working for SHIELD now?”

Jane flicked her a cautious glance. “Are you?”

Natasha nodded. “I just thought we could talk more easily if we both knew we are on the same team.”

Again the smile, followed by an easy laugh. “Absolutely.” She eyed Natasha for a moment. “Forgive my saying so, but you seem a bit tense. Is there any chance I could talk you into a glass of wine somewhere?”

Natasha felt herself relax for the first time in weeks. “ _Now_ you’re speaking my language.”

* * *

 

She took Jane to the local bar she frequented. It was nothing fancy, she told the scientist, but the alcohol was cold and the atmosphere very private.

In the dim interior, Natasha secured a couple of drinks and a booth. With a martini in her hand, she felt able to stick out the interview.

Jane took a sip of white wine and leaned back, her hand curled around the stem of the glass. Her hair was impossibly glossy; her skin glowed with health. “Now, I’m curious. Why did you contact me?”

Natasha hesitated. Quickly she chugged down her martini and held out her hand to a passing waiter for another.

“Goodness!” Jane’s eyes spread wide.  “Wow, you were thirsty. I won’t have to hold your hair later, will I?”

“Since you’re part of SHIELD, you probably know about my past – my upbringing and subsequent genetic engineering. Alcohol doesn’t work on me the same way it does on you.”

Jane nodded. “Sometimes science sucks,” she commented softly. “Just don’t expect me to keep up with you as far as drinks go.”

The new martini arrived. Cocktail in hand, Natasha felt a bit more courageous. “I have to ask you something a bit irregular,” she started. Jane’s eyebrows shot up, and Natasha hurried on, “I – that is – my life became a bit complicated lately. A month ago, I _knew_ what I was doing. I lived alone, took on any case Fury gave me. And I was good at it. But lately the work has died down, and I guess the lack of it makes me notice an emptiness.”

“Emptiness.” The scientist took a long gulp of wine. “Yes, I can understand that.”

Natasha willed herself not to be on the job, not to force a confession. “The thing is, there is a reason for it. I suppose I became compromised – I compromised myself, really.”

“How so? If you don’t mind my asking.”

With a long sigh, Natasha let go of her final restraints. “I became involved with someone. Except it was someone from another world – another realm.”

Jane sat back so suddenly she nearly spilled her wine. “What – who? What?”

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this. It all seems so silly… we’re two strong women, you and I, and yet…”

“Wait.” Jane sat forward and touched Natasha’s wrist. “You become involved with someone from Asgard? Is that what you mean?”

“Well, yes.”

“Who exactly?” Natasha opened her mouth, but Jane kept talking. “Did – did you and Thor…”

“Oh!” An unwilling guffaw came out of Nat’s mouth. “No, not at all.”

“Okay.” Jane sat back and swallowed more wine. “So, then …” Her eyes narrowed and she looked closely at Natasha. “Wait a minute. Don’t tell me it was his brother. That Loki guy. Isn’t he a douchebag? Like, a _major_ douche?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.” Natasha tossed down the rest of her martini and gestured to the waiter. “Just keep them coming,” she ordered.

“Yeah, more wine wouldn’t hurt either,” Jane added.

“And fries!” Natasha called after him. “Bring lots of those.”

“Fries would be good.” Jane looked at Nat and giggled. “Can you believe I hooked up with a guy called Thor? Hellooooo – I feel like I’m in the WWE.”

“Yeah, well try ‘Loki’. It’s as though I’m quoting the Norse Edda when I talk to him. Not to mention the armor. And the helmet!” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Still, at least your dude is out and about, not chucked into a dungeon somewhere. Dating an incarcerated villain was never very high on my bucket list.”

Jane’s giggle blossomed into a full laugh, straight from her belly, before she grew serious again. “Actually, I haven’t seen Thor lately. We had a long argument and I told him to get out of my life.” She snorted. “Thought he could just sweep me up in his arms, rush me to some palace in the clouds, and we’d be married. I could just forget all my work, settle down and have Aesir babies! I don’t think so!” Eyeing Natasha, she took another drink. “Did Loki propose to you yet?”

“God, no! Nothing like that.”

“He will. Just wait.” Jane finished her wine, accepted a new glass from the waiter gratefully. “They’re very intense, those two,” she added.

“Yeah, _intense_ is definitely the perfect word.”

“You know, I’m really glad you contacted me!” Jane picked up a French fry, bit into it, and beamed at Natasha. “I was intimidated at first, I must admit, but it’s great to be able to talk about this stuff openly at last.”

Natasha shoveled in some fries and nearly fainted at the taste of food that was salty, greasy, and not cold from the back of her fridge. “Me too. I don’t know if we can resolve anything, though.”

“Probably not. But I must say it helps to have a few drinks and laughs with someone who gets it.” She ate a few more fries, waggled her eyebrows, and nudged Natasha’s elbow. “Sooooo, is Loki a good kisser?”

Natasha mimed fainting in her chair. “Ohmigod,” she moaned. “And Thor?”

“Ohmigod. Guess being alive for a millennium gives you lots of practice, huh?”

“Loki’s probably tonguing out some goddess right now,” Natasha added with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Jane shook her head, and her mouth grew firm with conviction. “Nope. There’s no way. Once those guys latch on, there’s no escape. Girlfriend, you’re toast.”


	2. A Letter From Asgard

"I never really got to taste you fully, darling." The whisper surged into her ear, and Natasha gasped as his mouth kissed its way down her neck, over the peak of her breasts, along her belly. Loki's black hair tickled her legs as his white teeth bit and sucked her left thigh; she arched up and screamed as he continued down to her – oh hell, she had grown used to calling it her 'quim'.

How it quivered as his tongue deliberately explored every fold, ever peak; she felt herself become swollen inside and out. There was no escape. He teased every nerve ending, finding a rhythm that made her shudder. He was tireless, he was so good at it, he was exciting and dangerous, all at once. She reached to clutch his hair, to smooth her fingers over his hands where they spread her open, and he stopped to kiss her palm before he returned to her sex.

The tip of his tongue flickered like a snake, like a flame, as soft as a feather and firm as a thumb against the button of her clit.

At that, she stopped thinking and felt herself come apart, dissolving into a skein of stars.

* * *

She woke on the floor, pillowed on one arm. Natasha opened her eyes, feeling her muscles complain. Sleep came where you could take it, she knew that much, but it had been a while since she had fallen asleep on the berber carpet in her own sitting room.

A hand hung in front of her face, its fingers slack. She sat up and saw that Jane was asleep on the sofa next to her, snoring slightly. What had happened last night? There was a confused rush of images: wine, more wine, martinis, long vivacious conversations, and a drunken stagger home to her rooms in Stark Tower.

Natasha got to her feet and went into her bathroom. She sat down to pee and frowned - there was another red circle on her body, this time on her thigh. "OK, what the hell?" she whispered.

As she pulled her clothes off and climbed into the shower, she probed the new mark with one cautious finger. It was the same size as the one she had found on her neck a day earlier.

Had she picked up someone in the bar the night before? No.

Had she and Jane – ?

_NO_ , in capitals.

Carpet burn maybe? No. What was she, the heroine of an Amy Winehouse song?

Washed and shampooed, she climbed out and padded off in search of clean clothes. By the time she was fully dressed, she heard murmurs coming from the direction of the couch. Jane was stirring, and the scientist sat up when Natasha came in to sit next to her on the couch. "Good morning," the agent said.

"Oh, my God." Jane covered her face with her hands. "You're all clean and showered and stuff, and I probably look like a troll.  _And_  smell like one."

"You look great, as always. How's your head?"

Jane considered. "You know, caffeine would be really good right about now."

"I hear you. We can go and grab breakfast in the cafeteria here in the Tower if you want, unless you want to go to a restaurant. Or maybe you would prefer just to return home…?" Natasha offered.

"No, the cafeteria would be fine. Can I use your shower first, though? Would you mind?"

"I'll fetch you some towels."

* * *

Jane's skin still glowed as they rode down to grab coffee and some breakfast, and her hair gleamed under the dull light in the elevator.  _It simply wasn't fair,_  Natasha thought.

The cafeteria was deserted. Natasha sent up a silent prayer of thanks; the last thing she needed at that moment was a run-in with Steve or worse, Tony. She poured two cups of coffee and grabbed a tray with a few plates of food while Jane selected a corner table.

As the agent put the food down and took a seat, Jane muttered thanks, seized a coffee, and took a grateful sip. "Ahhhh." She speared a few pancakes with a fork and doused them liberally with syrup. "And by the way, did you find any more red marks on your neck this morning?"

Natasha dropped her fork, spraying eggs across the table. "What? How the hell did you know?"

"Don't you remember? We talked about it last night – I explained my theory of cross-string effect, and you told me it might actually have happened to you."

"Christ, I need to get onto a case. I'm getting soft." Natasha drank her coffee and sighed. "What is cross-string effect? Sorry, I don't even remember getting home last night – not clearly, anyway."

Jane giggled. "Neither of us were feeling any pain." She popped a forkful of pancakes into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and continued with more animation. "Cross-string effect is the theory that a cause in an alternate universe could affect something or someone here, in this world. For example, if someone fires a gun, it could theoretically impact an object or even a sentient being in another universe. And you told me if by 'alternate universe' I meant 'a realm of Yggdrasil', then maybe you were getting hickeys from another place and time." She paused. "And you showed me the lovebite on your neck. I take it you have another one today?"

Natasha kept drinking, but she nodded with her cup to her lips. "Mm-hm."

"I don't mean to be forward, but could I possibly see it?"

Spluttering, Natasha put her cup down. "Not just now," she said. "It's on my left thigh."

"Oh! Sorry." A deep blush suffused Jane's face, followed by a look of intense interest. "Really, though? Are you certain you didn't…"

"Well, I didn't pick any one up in the bar last night and I know you and I didn't get it on, so yeah. I'm certain."

"Hel-lo, ladies!" Tony appeared from nowhere and slid into the chair between them with a look of glee on his face. "How are  _we_  feeling this morning?"

"Stark, could you just keep it down a bit please? And we are fine, or we were until just now." Natasha directed her attention to her eggs.

"Is that so? And by the way, you were just dandy last night, especially when you and Molly Hooper here came in at three in the morning singing Sweet Caroline. I love the way you replaced So Good with Hard Wood, Hard Wood. Nifty lyrics upgrade."

Jane shielded her eyes. "Did we?" she asked Natasha, who simply winced, closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Lady Natasha!" A loud voice boomed across the cafeteria, causing Jane to sit bolt upright, spill her coffee, and gasp all at the same time.

"Oh, no! Are you – is that – Tasha, can you sneak me out of here?" she asked.

Tony's grin widened. "You know, I just decided I need to eat in the cafeteria more often."

The god of thunder strode to the table, intent on Natasha. "My lady! I have something for you…" He caught sight of Jane, turned bright red, swallowed, tried to speak, and couldn't. At last he dropped to one knee and with a mighty effort cleared his throat. "Jane," he whispered in a tone filled with awe. "My own heart, I have missed the perfect vision of your face beyond all telling…"

Tony sighed with happiness, grinned, and dropped his chin into laced fingers. "This is even better than a meltdown on the VMA's."

Natasha jumped to her feet, deciding to forget about breakfast. "Tony, don't forget we have that thing."

"What thing?"

"You know," she added between gritted teeth, "that  _thing_  we have to do. Or, go to. Whatever. Far, far away from here."

Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet. At that moment, however, Thor appeared to remember where he was. "A moment! I nearly forgot. I brought something for you, Lady Natasha, a gift from my brother Loki in Asgard. Yes, Prince Loki has sent you a message. You  _do_  remember Loki? He told me to give it to you this very day!" His volume increased with each word so that the god's voice boomed throughout the huge eating space, despite her frantic attempts to get him to be quiet.

" _Really!"_  Tony's smile was now so wide it looked as though he were cosplaying Jack Nicholson's Joker. "It just got better."

Natasha accepted the slim package heavily wrapped in red ribbon and fastened with large seals from Thor, if just to keep him quiet. "Any chance we can speak later?" she asked him.

"Yes, naturally. I will wait on you anon," Thor replied in a vague tone, his eyes fixed on Jane's blushes.

"Any chance I could make a YouTube vid of you singing Blurred Lines into Mjolnir as a prop microphone?" Tony asked.

"Yes, naturally." Thor wasn't paying attention.

Natasha hissed "Don't forget the thing!" to Tony and added in a much nicer voice, "Thanks again for coming out to meet me, Jane."

Jane collected herself, rose to hold out her arms and folded a very surprised Natasha into a warm hug. "It was my pleasure! I really had a great time. Listen, let's do it again just as soon as we can."

As Natasha prodded Tony out of the door, she reflected that as it turned out Jane and Thor were not so very different after all.

* * *

_Agent Romanova,_

_Since I am now betrothed to the beautiful enchantress Amora, I must insist you return forthwith the lock of my hair you took from me the last time we were together. I am returning the curl of yours I stole in its stead…_

_Agent,_

_Your unfortunate behavior has come to my attention. I understand you do not eat and insist on drinking huge quantities of vodka each night. This is unbecoming to anyone, let alone a mortal who has been graced with the attention of a god for even a few moments. Please desist at once; furthermore, I shall break off all communications with you …_

_Mortal,_

_Do not presume that you still cross my mind in any way, shape or form. I forgot all about you as soon as I returned to my true home…_

Natasha told herself to stop imagining what was inside as she considered the unopened packet Thor had given her. She dropped her head in her hands.  _I seem to have a problem dealing with my mail,_  she thought, remembering the letter from Anzhela. It sat on her bookshelf for several days before she finally worked up the courage to read it.

She got up, went to the kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea, making certain the cup was clean, the water completely boiling, the tea bag steeped before she added milk. When she had procrastinated long enough, she returned to the couch with the hot mug in her hands and sat in front of the envelope.

_This is ridiculous._  She put the cup on a coaster.  _I am the Black Widow; men have fought each other for my attentions._ Natasha picked up the envelope, broke open the large seal, and removed a page of thick parchment as well as a small object wrapped in a square of silk.

Carefully she unfolded the parchment and read the words Loki had written to her from another realm, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping open as she did so:

_Natasha,_

_As expected, I have been relegated to imprisonment on Asgard. My situation could be worse – the All-Father has granted me a suite of rooms, although I must live behind a glass partition like a caged tiger. With your quick wit, I am certain you can imagine how graciously I accepted those conditions. However, at least I do not have a serpent hanging over my head dripping venom into my eyes, and I suppose I must be grateful for small mercies given my own flame-haired saviour is not here to catch the poison._

_When will you come to visit me?_

_There, the question is out. I meant to write you flowery prose and woo you with sweet phrases to enjoy luxurious captivity by my side, but I find I have not the patience for such an endeavor. We must be reunited, and that is the end of it. Arrange the voyage to Asgard at once on your end with Thor._

_Mayhap you should have forgotten me at all, I include a small token to help remind you who Prince Loki of Asgard is. It will please me when you return the gift in kind._

_With my utmost wishes for your continued very good health (and I mean what I say, Natasha – keep yourself out of serious danger or I shall find a way to strangle you myself.)_

_Post Script – When I say 'at once', I do not jest. Go this instant to Thor and the fellow called Fury; I have seen to it that your affairs on Midgard are not pressing and thus will not take up your time._

Natasha put down the parchment and covered her mouth with both hands. Her first reaction was anger, followed by a frustrated desire to drive her fist into the god of mischief's face and kiss him until he was breathless at the same time. His departure had almost made her forget his calm air of authority with the undercurrent of passion constantly brewing in his words. Now it was as though he had returned and stood in front of her, smiling lazily as he ordered her to jump up and do his bidding the moment he demanded it.

And how  _dare_  he clear her calendar without her agreeing to it! No wonder she had nothing to do but moon over him and drink vodka, day after day. Arranging a visit to Asgard would be the very last item on her agenda; he could be certain of that. Let Loki stew, fret, pshaw as he might - she was determined to make her own decisions.

Natasha tossed the parchment on the table and picked up the silk packet. Something slipped out, a small, oval frame of heavy silver with a miniature portrait of Loki inside. Her breath slid in and out of her chest as she brushed it with one finger; the artist had caught his hooded, intelligent expression, with just the hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. His arms were folded and his head flung back – it was an attitude she had seen him assume many times.

Carefully she set the lovely object by the thick paper of his letter and felt for her phone. "Fury," Nick answered a second later.

"Got anything for me?"

"Agent Romanoff, I already explained we are in some kind of weird lull as far as crime goes. And I do believe I promised to call you the minute something comes in." Nick ended his statement with a suppressed sigh; inactivity didn't suit him, either.

"Kidnapping? Negotiations? Convincing? Babysitting? Nick, I'll take anything." She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Just hang in there, and I'll be in touch, Agent." Fury ended the call, and Natasha threw her phone on the table in disgust.

The face in the miniature seemed to mock her. "Oh, yeah?" she said to it. "We'll see about that."

_It will please me when you return the gift in kind.…_  Crap. She could hardly send a selfie to the palace in Asgard. Cursing Fury, Loki, and herself, Natasha crossed to a box under her tiny dining room table and pulled it out. The carton was filled with pictures, all of them from different missions and cases she had been on.

She picked up a few random photos of herself, marveling at her own appearance. She was blond in one, appeared dark and exotic in another, she laughed and talked vivaciously in still another … and none of them were truly her. It was as though she were a doll, a puppet, cadging confessions and microfiches out of targeted marks with the shell of her face and body. But who was the real Natasha?

At last she found one shot taken years earlier by a fellow assassin from the Red Room. She had just finished a case and her face bore a look of satisfaction, the 'secret smile' Loki seemed to admire. It was the closest thing she had to a true picture of herself.

_Natasha,_  she thought as she carried it into her bedroom. W _ho the hell is she?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the Kudos. They make writing Blackfrost even more fun and exciting.


	3. A Drop of Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - This chapter references the previous book in this series, The Q Word.

 

* * *

**3\. A Drop of Blood**

* * *

Loki appeared in her dreams a few nights later, dressed not in simple clothes but full, formal armor complete with his signature helmet. "Natasha!" he thundered in a voice filled with anger, as he strode straight up to her and tipped her chin up forcefully. "I believe I told you to come to Asgard the instant you received my letter. Tell me, madam, have you approached Thor to make your plans?"

She looked up into his face, knowing exactly how to play him. "No," she said with a regretful shake of her head. "Your brother has been absent lately."

His nostrils flared. "I do not accept this. You of all people know how to contact someone who is evasive."

"Yes, I do." Natasha trailed her touch over his vambraces to grasp the hand under her chin and move it to her lips. Capturing his gaze with hers, she slid his finger into her mouth and sucked it to the tip, taking care her tongue followed the sensitive underside. His eyes widened and his lips parted; as a reward she allowed him to see a flicker of her secret smile. Anger, she thought, was probably a powerful aphrodisiac for the prince.

"What are you …" His voice gave out and became a ragged gasp.

"What am I doing? Well, Loki, last time you came to me in a dream you said you wanted to taste me. Now I think it is my turn." She waved at his armor. "Get rid of all this, but…" she added as his clothes disappeared, "leave the helmet."

A mischievous smile spread across his face. It was difficult to believe anyone that beautiful could look so wicked at the same time. "Why?" he breathed.

She stood on tiptoe, reached to caress both horns in her hands. The tips were sharp; she pricked her thumb on one and watched as a drop of blood welled up on its point. "I just wanted to experiment a little with your magic. When I wore your helmet on the Clerkenwell Syndicate case I noticed your horns were very sensitive. I thought it could be interesting to use that to my advantage."

"Vidofnir's Wings! You have a saucy tongue, darling." His eyes darkened with lust as she leaned forward and licked one horn. At the same she caressed the other, curling her fist around it, making him breath sharply with a sudden hiss. "But if we are now using magic…"

She felt air curl around her and looked down. He had dressed her in her own Black Widow's catsuit, but it was a perverted version with the top cut out to reveal her breasts and the inseam between her legs gone so her cleft was open, naked.

Natasha pushed him down so he would have an excellent view of the leather framing her body and pressed one horn between her breasts; the demigod in front of her cursed softly and pressed his length against her thigh with a desperate thrust.

"Why, Mr. Odinson!" she said in an airy voice. "Look at this. It appears you have a third horn." She knelt in front of him, kissed his navel, the fringe of dark curls at his groin, and took him into her mouth. He tasted clean and smooth, with a slight whisper of smoke and his own sharp masculinity. "Mmm," she hummed against him, and she pressed his pelvis to recline back so she could reach every inch of him.

He threw back his head, his horns curling into his neck. She knew it was her moment – she released him to straddle his body with a quick motion. "If I  _do_ visit you in Asgard, it will be on my own terms. Do you understand me, Loki?"

Moving just as smoothly as she did, he sat up and held her face between his hands. "No. I need you now. I want to do this in the flesh, all night. Each morning. Every instant we have to ourselves. You are like a ripe fruit just out of my reach, and I  _must_  have you." He clutched her body and moved her onto his erection, slipped inside her with one burning, exquisite move. "A wet, warm mystery, meant just for me."

Natasha felt absurd tears prick her eyelids; his thrusts felt impossibly wonderful. "I can't believe…"

"You cannot believe you have allowed yourself to become my lover?" He laughed breathlessly, never ceasing the motion of his hips, and his eyes glittered. "But so it is, and you cannot change it. There is no escape for you now."

The strangeness of that thought as well as the teasing motion of him inside her was too much; she threw her head back and shouted his name as she pulsed and spent around him. He followed quickly with one last thrust, holding her close as he clutched her waist and spurted voluminously inside her.

The clung together for what could have been hours. At last Loki raised his head and pulled off the helmet in one motion. His black hair curled with sweat as he kissed her neck, her breasts, her mouth, stopping at her ear. "Darling, when we  _are_ able to cleave together skin to skin, I fear it will be a desperate, rushed affair much like the first time we had each other. Do you remember?" She could only nod in response. "But I promise I will settle myself eventually to prolonging our acts of love for nights on end if you will it. Tell me, would you like that?"

"Yes," she whispered, eyelashes fluttering closed.

"Then," he pressed, pulling her close to lie with him, "come to me in Asgard now.  _Now,_  Natasha."

* * *

When she woke, she jumped out of bed as though she had been lying on hot coals and stood for a moment, one hand pressed to her beating heart. She _remembered_  that dream, every moment of it.

Ever since she had received Loki's letter, she found she was able to sleep without chugging vodka. Perhaps that was why she recalled each detail; she had gone to bed sober. Curious, she examined her hand to find a tiny dot of blood on the tip of her thumb.

Natasha swore and felt for her phone by her bed. She was about to dial Jane's number – it was certainly the fastest way to get to Thor – when the device vibrated and the screen flashed with Clint's name.

Natasha pressed Talk. "Hey," she said into the phone.

"Hey. Listen, I know we had a date in a few days, but is there any chance we could meet tonight instead?"

A bolt of relief shot through Natasha. Her partner had saved her again, this time from running off to an alternate universe simply so she could have frantic sex with a dark villain. "Absolutely," she replied. "Sounds great – you don't know how much!"

"Cool."

"Um, what's up? You sound a little worried."

"Yeah. I – oh, hell, I just need to talk to you in person. Seven-ish okay?"

"Perfect. See you then." Natasha clicked the phone off and padded to the shower. As she scrubbed and shampooed she thought of Loki's letter, carefully folded next to the black lock of hair she had taken from him, as well as the silver miniature portrait.

The god of mischief, it appeared, would simply have to wait.

* * *

"Do you mind a good old-fashioned burger?" Clint asked, eyeing Natasha over the edge of the huge menu.

"I would love a burger." She winked at him and gave her order to the waitress. "Plus a couple of beers."

As the girl left, he rested his head on one hand. "How are you doing now that the SNAKE stuff got swept up under the carpet?"

She repressed a shudder; the last thing she wanted to talk about was SNAKE, the Clerkenwell Syndicate, and all the resulting fallout. Still, this was Clint, her partner and best friend; if anyone in the world had a right to ask her anything, he was that person. "To be honest, I had a really rough time writing it all up. The whole thing was so confusing, wasn't it? And to throw an Elder God into the middle of it… in fact, we never found the connection between Chthon and the syndicate."

"I just figured one of the gang members came across those pages of the Darkhold while exploring the underground tunnels of the Tubes," Clint said. "They discovered how powerful the pieces of parchment were, probably accidentally, and without knowing it they unleashed Chthon at the same time."

She nodded. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. I'm going to have to rewrite my final report to reflect that." Reaching out, she curled her fingers around his. "You are so smart, buddy."

His grin was filled with some weird, self-conscious awkwardness. "Jeez, Tasha – you're making this really difficult."

"What? What am I making difficult?"

The waitress returned with their beers, silencing them both. Clint accepted his eagerly and downed half the bottle in a few swallows. Natasha folded her arms and sat back. "Okay. Now are you going to tell me what the hell is on your mind?"

He ran one hand back and forth through his hair. "Argh," he groaned. "I know you're going to – oh, shit. Here goes. Remember when you went to the lower levels of the SNAKE headquarters with whatisname?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, I stayed there with Anzhela, remember? You asked me to keep an eye on her."

"Yeah…" Natasha frowned. Clint was acting really weird. "Are you mad at me? I wouldn't have stuck you with the babysitting detail, but she seemed to trust you the most out of all of us, and I didn't want her to go ballistic – hose the mission, you know…"

He held up one palm, silencing her. "Just let me get this out. It's difficult enough as it is." Blowing out a long breath, he continued, "Things got really wacked. We heard screams and the lights cut out; it almost seemed like we were in the middle of an earthquake…."

"Right." Natasha remembered the cause of the screams and the 'earthquake' – Loki had been tied down, a serpent over his face dripping poison into his eyes. His pain had been so great the entire underground had rattled with it.

"Right. So, Anzhela was about to lose it when that all went down, and she kind of grabbed me, I guess you could say. Tasha – the truth is she sort of came onto me."

She sat back, her lips tightening. Anzhela, the girl who looked just like Natasha, had even asked her if Clint were 'available' when they were right in the middle of the case. At the time she had ironically wished her niece good luck. "What the hell happened?"

"Okay, don't destroy the restaurant or kill me just yet, although God knows I deserve it. I – she – it was dark, and she looked just like you. She was a good listener, and she wouldn't take No for an answer, I guess…"

"Clint, are you telling me you fucked my niece? My only existing relative?" Natasha's voice become glacial.

His eyes, always drooping with emotion, grew even sadder. "It's actually worse than that. I got a call from her today. She's – well, she's pregnant. And I guess I'm the father."

Every particle of oxygen expelled from Natasha's lungs. The blood rushed to her head; she snatched up both bottles of beer and poured them all over his head. "She is  _pregnant?_  Really?" she shouted. "Well, enjoy being a dad. That's really nice. I hope you two are happy together." Throwing the beers down, she felt for her money, deposited all the cash she had on the table, and stormed out. "Don't call me!" she yelled over one shoulder before bursting out onto the street.

Outside, the streetlights were struggling to hold back the early darkness. Natasha quickened her footsteps, seething with rage _. That bastard! That jackass!_   _To take my niece and have sex. Unprotected sex at that! And now…_

Muttering to herself, Natasha covered a few blocks before her steps slowed. At last she stopped and stared, unseeing, into the window of a pawnshop.  _Am I any better? While Clint and Anzhela were getting busy, I was flirting with the god of mischief – the same one who held Clint hostage on the Hellicarrier. And unprotected sex? I never even considered it when Loki and I jumped each others' bones. Yet Clint never said a thing about it to me, and I bet he knew all along..._

Her face stared back at her from the plate glass window. Behind her, a pale face with green eyes appeared, outlined with black hair.  _Come to me now, darling,_  the reflection demanded.  _Now._

Natasha drew a shuddering breath. Slowly she retraced her footsteps, hoping Clint would still be there. When she arrived at the bar he was just leaving, dressed in a t-shirt with the name of the restaurant chain printed on it. It was new with creases from being folded, and it still bore a size L sticker on the front.

His eyes lit up as soon as he saw her, and he held out both arms in surrender. "Tasha! Take your best shot, please. I deserve it, right on the chin. I won't take no for an answer."

Natasha shook her head, threaded one arm through his, and dragged him out onto the street to walk home with her. "No, you  _don't_  deserve it. I – it was probably my fault after I ditched you on the case and left you to take care of her. I should have been the one sitting and holding her hand." She eyed him up and down and added, "Nice shirt, by the way. Did I get you all wet?"

He grinned. "I'm pretty sure I have beer in my taint."

"Oh! Hey! Wow, just wow. On a need-to-know basis… Seriously, though, Clint – what  _are_  you going to do?"

Clint didn't hesitate. "I'll stand by her, of course. If she wants to have the baby, I'll be there for her and the kid. Money, support – whatever she needs."

Natasha tugged his arm to make him stop, and brushed his hair back with one hand. "She's really, really lucky to have you," she said softly.

"Yeah. It just kind of kills anything between me and you…but that was already dead, wasn't it? If we are honest with ourselves for once, I mean. You have another deal going on, and not one I want to even imagine … but of course that's your business."

It was difficult to talk. His face, so familiar, so dear to her, wavered in front of her as she blinked furiously to clear her vision. "Clint," she sobbed.

His arms went around her, those strong arms banded with muscle. She knew he would stand by Anzhela, be strong for the girl and – oh, God – the baby. Whoever got to spend a lifetime with him would be the luckiest woman in the world.

"I'll always be your partner," he whispered into her curls.

Natasha, pressing her face into his shoulder, felt as though the world was spitting her out into the Void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely feedback, wonderful readers!


	4. A Game of Hnefatafl

Natasha slept fitfully, waking every few minutes to sit up and check her phone for the time. If she was honest with herself, she was also afraid of another mind-blowing sex scene in her dreams. At that moment, it was the very last thing she wanted or needed.

When early sunshine straggled into her room, she went into a deep slumber at last. She fell through dark billows of velvet and blood-soaked bandages, a forest of lopped-off limbs and metal structures. As she hurtled past them, she saw they were huge hypodermics filled with different liquids, all in lurid colors.

She landed with a jerk on the limb of a huge tree, shaking with fear. Her breath rattled in her throat, and for a moment she considered throwing herself onto the spire of the needle-buildings, impaling herself on one spike to end her own agony.

"Hello." The voice was quiet, calm. Natasha looked up, saw Loki, and scuttled to the opposite end of the branch.

"No," she moaned. "Don't. Don't touch me. Not – not now."

"I thought we might play a game," the voice went on imperturbably.

" _No!"_  she shouted. "No games, no magic, and I want none of your damned lovebites showing up in another dimension…"

"…I meant a game of Hnefatafl." Loki didn't move to touch her. "It is rather like chess, but there is only one king; the opposing player has more pieces to attack. Here." He took out a beautiful board, carved from some unknown substance, and began to set up the pieces.

"I don't…"

"The game has its own strategy and requires a great deal of concentration. I shall be the side with the king – you try and attack me. I have fewer pieces but more flexibility with my moves." He handed her a die with intricately carved runes on each side.

_Concentration._  That would mean she wouldn't have to think. Unwillingly she edged nearer and watched as he pointed the pawns, the king, and explained how to score the runes; as he spoke she studied the board. It was laid out differently from a chessboard with diagonal lines and circles instead of neat squares.

Once she grasped the game, he stopped talking. They played in silence, the wind rushing through the leaves around them. Natasha peered over the edge of the huge branch where they sat; an impossible distance lay beneath them.

"Do not fall," Loki advised. "I already plunged through the void once and would prefer not to do it again."

"She's pregnant," Natasha said suddenly. "One bout of sex with him and she's pregnant. She has my face and my surname, but God knows she does not have my medical history."

His hand froze in the act of moving a pawn, and he looked at her.

"How can someone be so like me and so different, all at once? Why is she allowed to have something I never will? Could you please explain that to me? I am a creation, a superbeing – but did my creators  _deliberately_  design my body to smother the life I held inside me? Or was it simply a huge, regrettable mistake in the file folder marked 'Romanova'?"

She looked at the board. The pieces were lined up in two defensive positions; instantly she saw five possibilities for winning the game. Natasha tilted her head, trying to narrow them to the deadliest, surest one.

"Fenrir," he said as he moved one of his pawns. "He was my son, born in the form of a giant wolf. The oracle said he was a threat to the All-Father and would eventually kill Odin, so he was imprisoned on an island and bound with a silk cord that continually tightened around his neck. Magic, of course."

Natasha swallowed and looked down at her lap. "Loki. I – " For once her life, she didn't know what to say. She knew pity was the last thing he wanted; she felt the same way. "I imagine he put up one hell of a fight, since he was your son." She captured one of his pieces, bent one knee and cupped her chin on it to look at him.

"Just so. He bit off one Aesir's hand before he was bound, but later Fenrir was slaughtered." Loki considered the board, moved a pawn to take hers. "There." Flashing his own cheeky grin, he flipped the pawn up in the air and caught it in his fist.

The king on the board was secure; there was no other move she could make. With one turn he had won. Natasha sat back, silently conceding. Above them, the leaves still rustled, and she heard a few chitterings from some birds overhead. She tilted her head, absorbing the peace of the moment; she felt as though she and Loki were enclosed in a green bubble shot through with shafts of late sunlight.

"The birds you hear are magpies," he said. "They live in the top of Yggdrasil. I could take you there one day, if you like."

She felt something melt inside her and gave him her secret smile. "I would like that." A moment of hesitation, and she took the plunge: "I gave birth to a girl, long ago. Rose, her name would have been. She was born too early – my body strangled her while she grew inside me. All part of the bio-engineering, of course. I am the perfect assassin, but the world's worst incubator."

There was a muffled snap, the sound a walnut would make when it was cracked open. Loki opened his fist and showed her the pawn he held, broken cleanly in two pieces.

"I suppose it was then I gave up on the idea of love, or any kind of emotion. It was easier to keep it all brewing underneath, to hide it – and after a while, I believed it myself: that I had no need of feelings."

"I am the opposite," he replied. "As you have seen, I give full rein to my feelings and allow them to sway me, often with tragic results."

"May I ask you something?"

He nodded, caressing the two halves of the white pawn in his hand.

"Who was Fenrir's mother?"

"My wife, Angrboda. She bore me three children: Fenrir, Jorgmunsdir the serpent, and Hela, my daughter. I loved all of them – and I loved their mother too, for a time. That seems like a memory of a memory now."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. She had never considered the fact of Loki being married and having children. "And?" she asked.

"And, after a long series of betrayals and hysterical accusations on her part, we agreed to dissolve our marriage. She went on her way, and I can only assume she is dead and become dust, ages ago."

_Ages ago._  The words seemed to echo in their shared space among the leaves and magpies, and Natasha felt a piercing melancholy enter her chest. She stared straight ahead and brushed the red curls off her face.

"Here." Loki held out the ruined pawn, closed it in his fist, and opened his fingers. The small piece had been repaired, the two halves fitted together. He held it out to her, and slowly she took it from his hand. "I think our time is at an end, Natasha, for tonight, at least." He made a quick gesture with his fingers and the board, the other pawns, and the king disappeared. "Think of me."

* * *

"I will," she answered, but she was speaking to no one. The leaves, the tree and Loki himself had dissolved, and she was back in her own rooms in Stark Tower.

Natasha sat up and exclaimed. In one hand, she still held the tiny white pawn. Carefully she put it in the drawer, next to the letter and the black curl of hair.

Her phone showed it was late into the morning; she had slept far longer than usual. Still, after the nightmares had given way it had been a beautiful dream: the game in the green space. Although she and Loki hadn't kissed – he hadn't even attempted to touch her – it seemed they had grown closer than if they were actually coupling.

Natasha flipped through her contacts and found the one she was looking for. The phone rang, and a moment later Jane answered. "Natasha?" Her voice was bright with friendliness. "I'm so glad you called! How are you?"

"I'm okay. I was just wondering, is Thor there? I figured the quickest way of finding him would be to call you…"

Jane laughed, a note of pure joy. "You got that right. Yes, he's here." Natasha heard her call his name, heard his instant response followed by the sound of a long kiss and Jane's breathless laugh.

"LADY NATASHA. ARE YOU ON THE OTHER END OF THIS DEVICE?" Thor bellowed into the phone.

She held it away from her ear. "Yes, it's me. I was wondering, actually, if I could come and speak with you. And Jane too, if she isn't too busy."

"YES. YES INDEED. IT WOULD BE OUR HONOUR." The phone clicked off.

A moment later, it rang back with Jane on the other end. "Sorry about that. He isn't really used to phones yet."

Natasha felt one of her rare chuckles erupt from her throat. "I have a proposition for you both. Nothing too painful, don't worry. Are you at your facility in New York by any chance? May I stop by this afternoon?"

"Yes, absolutely - we'll be here all day. It will be great to see you."

She hung up and padded off to get ready. After she showered, got dressed, and slid the photo of herself into the back pocket of her jeans, she took a look around her rooms. If she had it her way, she wouldn't see them again that evening, perhaps for much longer.

On her way out of the door, she dialed Fury's number. Hill picked up with the response, "Nothing for you yet, Agent Romanoff."

"I know. I was just hoping to talk to Nick quickly…"

"He's been called in to the council," Hill replied in her level, passionless voice.

_Is that what I sound like most of the time?_  Natasha wondered, stifling her dismay. "Very well," she replied. "Tell him I'm talking off for a day or two – perhaps longer. I'll check in, so leave a message with Clint if you need me."

"Will do." Hill cut the line without saying anything further.

In the taxi headed to Jane's lab, Natasha was about to dial Fury again. She thought better of it and sent a quick email instead, requesting the Clerkenwell report.  _I know it is confidential,_  she typed,  _but it will not go any further on_ ** _this_** _planet._  She considered her wording and hit Send; Nick would understand what she was trying to say.

A few minutes later, his reply came through:  _Agent, I take it your day off is not being spent at the beach. The following is for your eyes only –_ _ **on this planet**._

Attached was the report she needed, heavily encrypted. She copied the file and hid it in a remote app titled Kitty Emoticons, popped the app into a Games Manager folder, and made the entire thing doubly protected with text and image passwords. She deleted Nick's message as well as all sensitive SHIELD info and put her phone in her back pocket, next to the old photo. The information would be ready when she needed it.

The taxi drew up outside the building where Jane worked. Natasha paid the driver with an extra tip. Ignoring his thanks, she jumped out and ran through the door and up the stairs, eager to find Thor and begin the next phase.

SHIELD had decided to put Jane (and Selvig, when they worked together) in an old storefront by the river. The idea was the obscure address and appearance would act as camouflage. Once inside, there was a complex lock mechanism hidden within a scarred door from the previous millennium. Natasha held up her all-access pass and submitted to a visual scan before the door slid open, revealing a long, white corridor.

Selvig stood inside; he had been alerted as soon as Natasha entered the building. She returned his greetings and asked for Thor.

"He's in Jane's office," Selvig said, jerking a thumb in the direction. "Been there all week."

She thanked him and headed down the hallway. As she approached, she heard Jane's soft laugh mingled with the deep tones of Thor's voice. "Aegir insisted we needed bait to go fishing, so I used one of his oxen and caught a whale."

"No  _way_ ," Jane said. "First, whales don't eat oxen."

"They do in the Sea of Marmora."

"Not to interrupt, but what are you designing there, my own big guy?"

"Ah." Thor sounded triumphant. "Behold! It is a new weapon, one to dispatch many enemies in one stroke – a variant on this catapult designed by the Midgard mathematician called Pythagorus. I seek a way to throw several projectiles at once, in different directions."

"That sounds interesting. May I see?" Natasha was just about to knock, when she saw Jane lean over Thor, and rest her hand on his shoulder. "Always warfare, though – why don't you concentrate on peace instead?" the scientist asked.

"But battle is glorious!" The god's voice softened as he cupped her face with one massive hand. "Nearly as glorious as your bright beauty."

Natasha retreated silently, pretended to sneeze, and followed it up with a long bout of coughing. When she approached again, she was bombarded. Jane threw her arms around Natasha, and the god enfolded both women in his long arms.

"It's so good to see you!" Jane enthused. "Any chance we can kidnap you and take you to dinner?"

"Actually, I was hoping to kidnap  _you._  Both of you."

Thor's face creased in a laugh. "So devious! What is afoot, Lady Natasha?"

She slipped her arm through Jane's and looked up at him. "Can I convince you to take me to Asgard? And Jane as well? I need someone there to help me with negotiations, and having another person from Midgard there would help me acclimate."

"Asgard  _now?_  Negotiations?" Jane's forehead puckered. "What do you mean?"

A look of hope crossed Thor's face. "Do you mean to help free my brother?"

Natasha felt her determined resolve strengthen, and she nodded. "At the very least, I want someone there to know what he did here on Earth for me and for SHIELD. I doubt it will be enough to win him his freedom – I also highly doubt he really deserves to be out of his dungeon or whatever it is – but Loki's good deeds  _cannot_  continue to go unnoticed." She stopped, realizing she was beginning to sound like Thor.

Scientist and god eyed each other. "Can we do it without the Bifrost, Thor?" Jane asked. "I know Heimdall hears everything you say, but what if you are whisked back to Asgard leaving us here alone?"  _Leaving me here alone_  was the hidden message.

"You have the program Loki wrote for you," Thor replied without hesitation.

"Wait, Loki wrote a computer program for you?" Natasha felt bewildered.

"Well, yes, if by 'wrote' you mean hacked into my computer, stole my work on a map of wormholes connecting us to various coordinates in space, and added a layer depicting the nine realms of Yggdrasil… Still, I take your point. You can navigate with my map and Loki's magical addition, pinpointing a spot in Asgard to land us." Flushed with enthusiasm, Jane went to her computer and concentrated on the screen.

"Can you do it with three people? Er, two people and one god?" Natasha asked. "And, do we need to pack a bag, or…" Her voice trailed off.

Thor threw his head back in loud laughter. "Nay, Lady Natasha – we travel with the clothes on our backs, and naught else."


	5. An Unsung Hero

Loki sat on the small balcony outside the room where he slept, remembering the dream he shared the night before. The instant he saw Natasha among the leaves of Yggdrasil, he knew any move towards seduction or even flirtation would chase her away and he would lose her forever. Not only was the Russian assassin in his flickering visions every night, not only did she hold him in thrall so all he could think about was the next time he could caress, kiss, and lie with her, she was also the key to his plans – his eventual escape from the rooms where he was imprisoned. Their affair was a move towards his eventual redemption.  _And when I do regain my rightful place as a true prince of Asgard,_  he mused,  _what will I do then?_   _Will I try to wrest the throne away from my father and brother, or will I turn to other pursuits?_  As always, he had no idea where his fitful, tortured plans would eventually take him.

One thing was certain, however. As soon as Natasha appeared in Asgard he meant to win her for his own. The mere thought of the flame-haired beauty in the arms of another made him gasp with fury, want to strangle someone in order to vent his temper. No, in his mind he had already decreed her to be his, and thus it would be until the end of her maddeningly short lifespan.

Therefore, he had allowed his tongue to spin her soft tales, revealing another side of his nature and creating a bond between them stronger than any fierce bout of lovemaking. Just sitting next to her on the huge tree and seeing her slender fingers reach for a pawn to move it on the board made him ache with desire. His younger self would have reached for her, brushed away her protests, glamoured her until she yielded for him. Perhaps the events of the past few years had taught him to be more patient and wait for the larger prize: that of Natasha's fealty and undying devotion. Yes, he would have her heart, body, mind and soul – and with them his freedom as well.

It was difficult not to think of her red curls tumbled across his chest, her lips opening for his tongue, the smooth skin of her inner thighs. Those memories would drive him mad with lust and longing; already he could feel himself grow impossibly hard.

He  _could_  go and create an illusion to lie with and thus pleasure himself… but he discarded the notion as quickly as it entered his mind. At that moment, he only wanted Natasha's lightning wit, that tantalizing secret smile of hers, and her body under his as he thrust inside her again and again, all night long, until they both shuddered with the force of their release.

He looked up from the small book he held in one hand to look out with unseeing eyes over the small plot of greenery where he was allowed to walk. "Make haste, darling," he murmured, and his thumb caressed the worn, leather spine of the volume in his lap.

* * *

Natasha found being with Thor and Natasha was very soothing. She watched as they investigated Loki's map of Asgard and set up coordinates; they murmured together while inputting directions and setting up something called time difference variants. "We could arrive here…" Jane said, pointing to a spot on the screen.

"My love, that takes us directly through the Boiling Plane. It is too dangerous for you and the Lady Natasha."

"Oh, you're right. Sorry, didn't notice. Okay, what about this? We'd have to time it a bit later, but…"

Their voices flowed over her, and Natasha opened the long report hidden on her phone to check the contents. Fury had come through, giving her full access to the entire Ealing Affair, although certain spots were noted with comments such as "Darkhold: could be spurious" and "Chthon: no evidence of existence." Still, with a bit of hacking, she thought she could rework the report and dress it up enough to present to the All-Father himself or at least his council, if he had one. She cut and pasted parts, rewrote others, and saved it to the hard drive of her phone ready to access even in another realm.

That done, she leaned her head on her folded arms and watched Jane and Thor. Their heads were bent together over the screen, and the illumination lit them up like a Caravaggio portrait. Jane caught her eye and gave her a wink; Natasha smiled back and closed her eyes. The lack of sleep from the night before was starting to catch up with her.

She slid into a sort of haze, where she saw the familiar black-haired figure sitting on a small balcony overlooking a green field. "Make haste, darling," Loki said to her, his voice just as hushed as the whispers between Jane and Thor.

"I will," she promised. "We just don't want to arrive in the Boiling Plain, apparently."

He laughed. "No, you certainly should avoid that. Bid my brother to travel carefully and not be a fool."

"We're in good hands," she assured him. "Jane is …"

He stood up and strode towards her. "I cannot wait another day," he interrupted. "You and I belong together – I know it, and so do you, in your heart of hearts."

"I…" she started to say, but Jane put one hand on her shoulder.

"Natasha? We should head out now, according to our calculations. Are you ready?"

Shaking away her dream, Natasha jumped to her feet and checked quickly for her hidden weapons – at least three in one sleeve, several more strapped to her thighs – and the photo in her pocket. Her phone went inside her jacket. "Yes, I'm ready," she declared.

* * *

They had to travel to an open space for the only method of travel available, what Jane called 'The Mjolnir Express'. Luckily she had a truck available, courtesy of SHIELD. As Natasha perched in the back and Thor heaved himself into the seat beside Jane, the scientist said, "This was my bonus when I was recalled from Tromso. It was new, but one too many thunderstorms…"

The floorboards were torn up on one side, and Natasha found, as Jane started the car and headed north, her seat was unstable. It tended to float, especially when Jane took a wide corner quickly.

She was thankful when, several hours later, they arrived at a spot just south of the Fingerlakes. "It's not perfect," Jane said as she climbed out of the truck and locked it, "but it will do, since our time is short. I'll just text Erik and have him pick up the truck if it's still here in a few weeks."

"The good doctor will indeed have to return for this chariot," Thor grinned, "if I have any say in the matter. Were things were left to me…"

"Things are not left to you." Jane caught Natasha's eye and grimaced. "I still have to run my lab here on earth, Big Guy."

Thor immediately began to protest, offering her what he called large Temples of Science within the palace itself. After a few minutes, Natasha cleared her throat and said, "Shouldn't we get started?"

"Yes." Jane came close to Thor and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You hold onto both of us, Natasha."

"It is a good plan. You must grip very tightly, both of you, since I must wield Mjolnir with all my strength." He looked down at the two women and grinned. "This is a fine adventure! Are you prepared?"

Jane nodded. "Yes," Natasha started to say, when the wind was knock out of her. The world spun around them and disappeared – all she could see was Jane's calm face and Thor's dazzling smile.

An instant passed, and the three of them landed with a thump. Natasha, having seen Thor 'stick his landing' several times, was prepared and braced herself in a kneeling position when the whirlwind around them stopped.

Jane staggered slightly, and Thor's arm tightened around her. He looked up and swept a mighty arm towards a forest spreading as far as Natasha could see. Overhead, clouds billowed in long spires and fantastic shapes; behind them were two planets.

"Is that the Cavern of Time?" Jane asked, peering at a dark void at the edge of the forest.

"Don't get too close, my love – I would hate to lose you to another age. Time, it is said, is the stream where Aesir and Vanir alike can be swept away. The place is highly unstable. Come, we can now transport to Asgard and the palace." Thor held out his arms again, and Natasha clung closely to him and Jane.

"This is crazy!" Jane couldn't keep a smile of excitement off her face as the now-familiar whirlwind whisked them away from the forest and the Cavern of Time.

* * *

At the palace, Thor beckoned them to follow. He led the way through several beautiful gardens, choosing the ones that had the most overgrowth to creep through. "I want to see how things lie at court first," he whispered, "before…"

"My son!" The shout came from a tall, imposing woman in a gown made of cloth-of-gold. She wore long earrings, and her hair was looped back from her handsome face. "Why are you skulking throughout the lesser gardens thus?"

Thor gave up his attempt at tiptoeing, sighed, and stood up. "Queen Frigga, I must explain my actions."

She waved an impatient hand. "I already know you entered near Vanaheim by the Cavern of Time; I could sense it straight away. And I suppose this is the girl from Midgard you always speak of to Volstagg."

"Um, hello," Jane said. "I'm really more of a woman than a girl – but we can – oh, heck, it's really nice to meet you."

The queen turned to Natasha. "But who is this? Do not tell me you mean to collect several wives at once, Thor."

"No, no," Natasha said quickly. "This hasty arrival is my fault. I asked your son to help me, and he and Jane were kind enough to agree to it. So, if anyone is going to be chucked into a dungeon, it should be me."

The queen did not smile, but her lips wavered for a moment. "No one will be 'chucked' anywhere. In truth, I must thank you – I sorely missed my son, and you both have brought him to me for a time."

Another cheerful grin split Thor's face, and he seized the queen in a bear hug, swinging her off her feet. "I must thank the Lady Natasha as well!" he roared. "Her request has convinced my own lady to follow me to my home."

"Well!" The queen regained her footing, smoothed her skirts, and nodded to Natasha. "I take it you have a request or perhaps some information to share, but I must warn you we shall make very merry in the palace this night."

"I do indeed have a request." Natasha followed the queen as she led them out of the garden. "I hoped to show you a report from our latest case load…"

"Report? Load?" The queen looked at her with keen intelligence.

"Yes. That is – I wish to – to tell you a tale, you know."

"Ah!" A look of understanding filled Frigga's stern, beautiful face. "Tales are always welcome here in Asgard. Does it have much bravery and bloodshed? And is there an unsung hero? Those are my favorites."

Natasha felt her lips spread into a smile of satisfaction. "Indeed there is, Queen Frigga. That is, Your Majesty. In fact, the unsung hero is none other than your son, Prince Loki."

Frigga stopped and put one hand on Natasha's arm. "Loki – the hero of a tale?

"But it is true, and I have the proof – all in here." Natasha felt in her jacket pocket and produced her phone. "It's on the hard drive. I'm pretty sure AT&T doesn't reach out here."

The queen shook her head in a bewildered manner. "Hard drive! AT&T! Thor, your friends speak in words filled with mystery. Can you make sense of it?"

He shook his head. "No, none at all."

"Look." Natasha gestured to a stone bench, carved with dragons and intricate runic symbols. "May I show you?"

"This should be interesting," Jane commented.

The queen sat next to the Russian agent and peered at the screen. "What an amazing magical device! Lady Natasha, please show me the tale of my younger son; if he was indeed a hero, I should dearly love to know of it."

"Here is a little of what he accomplished in Midgard during his imprisonment there." Natasha accessed the file and showed it to Queen Frigga. "First, he set up a system of medication for a hostage – er, that is, he rescued a sick maiden and procured her a potion to cure her of her illness. Then – oh, you will understand this one easily – he protected me from the Elder God Chthon, and put himself under a curse by using a page of the Darkhold in order to save me from an enchanted maze."

"I knew naught of this!" Thor exclaimed.

"Yes, you were frozen at the time in the SNAKE headquarters. Oh, I nearly forgot – he rescued Thor, as well as several of our agency – I mean warriors, you know. And he saved the passengers on a plane, that is - voyagers on a vessel who were also bound by the curse."

"Loki did this?" Jane shook her head. "I just can't wrap my head around it. Talk about out of character!" She shot a look at the queen, but Frigga was too intent on Natasha's phone.

"What wonders you have shown me! However, I do not think I can …"

"There is more," Natasha interrupted. "Before he left, Loki presented me with a charity. It is a legion of knights who do good deeds. These knights go and rescue maidens from being bought and sold in slavery. Not only does this legion rescue the girls, it seeks to give them education and housing. Dwelling places, I mean."

"What?" Thor was purple. " _Loki_  did this? How?" His disbelief was echoed by both Jane and the Queen.

"Well, he turned out to be a whiz, I mean a wizard, with computers. Magical devices, your majesty, much like this phone. With the aid of his own magical device, he set up the legion, now known as the Petrovitch Foundation." Natasha gave her phone to Frigga and added, "It was sort of in my honour – a parting gift from him when he was told to leave me and return to Asgard."

"Your honour!" Frigga gave her a long, searching look before she bent over the phone again and discovered she could scroll the text on the screen. "This is – what does this button do? Have I broken it? The words have disappeared."

"Here." Natasha showed her how to access the report again. "You may keep that phone if you like, although eventually it will run out of power. I doubt we can recharge it here in Asgard. Maybe with magic…"

"I shall show this to my husband this very day." The queen tucked the phone in her sleeve. "In the meantime, we will prepare rooms for you all. Clothes too," she added, glancing at Natasha's jeans.

"Actually, would you mind very much if I first paid Loki a visit?" Natasha murmured. "We – there was a great deal we needed to say to each other, but we ran out of time when he was whisked back to Asgard."

The queen stopped again, thoroughly astounded. "Visit?  _Loki?_  Are you certain? He is subject to extreme fits of violence, as you know and may threaten you."

"No, I'm good. I know exactly how to handle him." Natasha shook her head with complete confidence. "But will the All-Father allow it?"

"Leave it to me." Frigga smiled. "To use your words, I know exactly how to handle  _him_."

* * *

Loki's rooms were at the far end of the palace, sealed off with a clear pane that looked like glass but was, Frigga explained, powerful enchantment. "I will give you a rune to allow you passage through it. And if my son does threaten you, just say my name aloud and I will remove you from his presence."

"I'll be fine." Natasha was anxious to confront the prince, to thank him for her gift, give him the flimsy photo he requested, and perhaps go over a few points of the last case that she still didn't understand.

"Very well." The queen pressed one finger to Natasha's wrist; a tiny, spiked R appeared in green on her skin. "This will allow you through the seal. But do take care."

"Yes, okay…" Natasha put her wrist to the clear seal and felt a pressure, like that of a membrane snapping around her as she stepped into the rooms beyond and waved goodbye to the queen.

Inside the magic seal was a wide, stone hallway with arches overhead. Several doors led off it, all closed. The entire place was silent as a coffin and seemed deserted.

Despite her reassurances to the queen, Natasha felt her stomach contract as she put her hand on one door handle. It turned easily, revealing a huge chamber with a massive bed banked with pillows and fur blankets. A fire burned in the corner hearth, and a velvet robe richly embroidered with dragonflies lapped over the arm of one large chair. Hurriedly she closed the door again.

The next was a dining room with large windows looking over the garden Loki had showed her once in a dream. Both were also deserted.

 _Perhaps I should just return to the queen, Thor, and Jane,_  Natasha thought.  _This is starting to get silly._

Her ears pricked up at a tiny sound, the whisper of dry parchment. Gritting her teeth, she opened the final door.

Within, she found a large library, flanked with tall cases of heavy volumes. Prince Loki stood at the far end of the room, studying a long scroll he held in one hand.

He looked as solemn as an aesthete or a young knight intent on his devotions. Loki might have been pondering how to square the circle or counting the number of angels that could dance on the head of a pin. The long black coat he wore, severely cut with white at his collar and cuffs, enhanced the illusion. Natasha felt frozen, as though she had walked into something sacred.

Taking a breath, she edged backwards without making a sound. She should never have come – the entire thing was a dreadful mistake –

Loki looked up from the scroll and caught her trying to escape. His mercurial face changed from seriousness to surprise, followed by a flash of utter lust and longing as the scroll dropped onto the rich, crimson carpet.  _"You…!"_  he said.

"Sorry, I see you are busy. I didn't mean to bother you." Natasha turned to leave, but with three strides he reached her, captured her waist with one arm, and closed the door to the library firmly with the other. The next moment she found herself clasped to his chest, her face hidden in his shoulder, his own pressed into her hair, as he embraced her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat. Several shuddering sighs ran through his frame, and he cradled her head with one hand to hold her closer to him. There was a loosening sensation throughout her body, and she couldn't help letting a tiny sob escape her.

At that he let go of her, thrust her to his long arms' length, and looked down into her face with wide eyes. A wicked smile crossed his face. "Valhalla, you cannot do without me, darling." Very gently, he wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Keep your pride in check," she ordered. "I wanted to see you, but don't allow it go to your head."

His smile widened, and she couldn't help glancing at his teeth, so white and even against the pale skin. "Everything goes to my head." He raised his eyebrows and tipped up his chin to look down at her. "And just how did you arrive, may I ask?"

"Mjolnir, of course. I suppose we could have asked Heimdall for a ride, but I didn't want to announce to the entire realm I was visiting you."

"Why?" Anger darkened his face, and his black brows descended in a frown. "Is it such a disgrace to do so?"

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly; she had forgotten his sudden changes of mood. "No, but I didn't want to be interrupted more than necessary during my visit with you."

The frown disappeared, replaced by a dazzling grin. "Your secret smile," he breathed, and he touched her lips softly with one hand. "You plagued me night and day, Natasha, do you realize it? There was no relief. I am more glad than I can say to – oh, Hel, darling – I cannot disguise my joy to have you by my side again at last, and that is the truth of it…"

He made a small sound like a whimper in his throat. Before Natasha could answer, Loki pulled her into his arms once more and fastened his lips on hers.


	6. Tickling the Tail of the Dragon

Instead of the forceful kisses Natasha expected, Loki's lips moved over hers with great gentleness. He continued to murmur something in his throat, a constant sound like a purr. It was exciting, it was delicious, it was –  _mmmm._  Her conscious thoughts faded, and all she knew was the feel of long, black hair under her fingers, arms strong as pure silver around her waist and shoulder, soft breath on her cheek, his knowing tongue. It was as though they stood together in a bubble. Time lost all meaning – he could have been claiming her mouth for seconds or hours. Naturally she was incredibly stimulated, but beyond that the experience was almost relaxing as though the universe had at last shifted into the correct alignment, and something missing inside her had been restored.

Loki stopped, put both hands on either side of her face, and held her framed thus in silence. His green eyes were wide and startled, mouth parted with surprise; his perfect beauty broke her heart. She wanted to give him a precious gift, but the only thing she could think of was too frightening to contemplate. The words were impossible to say.

And so Natasha reached for his hand and placed it over her heart, so he could feel how it raced beneath bone and skin. His gaze never left hers; he responded by placing her hand on his chest, to sense the heartbeats there like the thunder of hooves.

She couldn't look away, and the shared moment between them seemed to reach another level - beyond lips and teeth, tears and laughter, quim and cock, Asgard and Midgard. None of that mattered. The moment almost seemed familiar, as though the shared touch had occurred between them countless times before.

Loki opened his mouth and she steeled herself. The woman who had survived the horrors of the Red Room and faced down countless adversaries was terrified of what would come next.

"My mother is on her way to find you," he stated at last in a husky voice.

"Oh," she replied, breaking the glance. Relief and disappointment flooded her veins. "And…"

"And that is all you get from me now, my girl. If I touched you further I would be lost."

Natasha nodded to show she understood, and he stepped away from her. "Queen Frigga told me we would be 'making merry' later, so I guess I have a thing to go to," she commented.

"Ah – a state banquet. You'll have to listen to several bards drone on about Odin's deeds of bravery and watch Volstagg eat his weight in venison. My sympathies."

Her lips twitched. "Thanks. Oh, and I nearly forgot - I have something for you."

The crumpled photo was still in her back pocket. Natasha dug it out and handed it to Loki, and a bright smile illuminated his face when he saw what it was. Turning with one of his quick, sudden moves, he strode to a box over the fireplace. In one motion he flipped up the cover, upended the contents onto the floor, and carefully placed her flimsy picture inside in their place.

Several bright gems cascaded onto the carpet. Natasha exclaimed, got on her knees, and picked up a huge emerald, three diamond rings, a gold watch and chain, and several unknown stones black on the outside but with rainbows glinting in their centers. Loki looked down at her and jibed, "You may keep those, since you insist on picking them up."

"I don't want your jewels." She rose to fling the flashing pile at him, and he caught the pieces in one fist. "However, I prefer the room not to be a shambles when I return to visit you later – try and keep it clean, would you?"

The dimples popped into his cheeks, and he was about to reply when Queen Frigga entered the room. Instantly his expression sobered, became formal, and he bowed slightly.

"It is time for you to be shown to your chambers," the queen said to Natasha, "but my husband and I need to speak with my son first. Lady Sif awaits you in the hall to conduct you there – I shall attend you at dinner, Lady Natasha."

"Lady Sif  _and_  a banquet! Oh dear." Loki winked at her, and she sketched him a wave before leaving the room. As she pressed her wrist against the magic seal and felt it yield, she heard him ask, "To what do I owe this pleasure, madam?"

In the hall, a figure with long, tumbling dark curls over silver armour stood with her back to the prisoner's rooms. When Natasha approached, the figure turned to reveal one of the loveliest faces the Russian had ever seen. "Lady Sif?"

The woman nodded. "I am told I must accompany you to your quarters." Her tone showed that she took no pleasure in it.

Natasha raised one eyebrow. "Indeed, I don't mean to put you out."

"Out? Why should I be 'put out'? I only have to inspect the broadswords, finish the new guards' training, tend to my horse, and design weaponry for a cavalry. Naturally, the task of taking a mortal to her dressing room supersedes all of that."

Feeling her temper slip, Natasha shot back, "I am an Avenger as well as a mortal, and I of all people understand the importance of warfare and preparation. Tell me where I am to go, and you may be on your way this instant with my thanks."  _Drat,_ she thought,  _I'm starting to talk like Thor again._  It seemed natural inside the enormous golden palace.

Lady Sif raked her up and down with magnificent eyes like stars and said, "You must go through the library, to the right stairway, up three and down two, past the solarium and touch the panel depicting Urd's well, unto the minor passage along the courtyard of living statues, around the Maiden's Chambers, to the fifth room where you must knock twice, wait four counts, and knock thrice. Have you understood?" She smiled with vicious pleasantry.

"Through the library, to the right stairway, up three and down two, past the solarium and touch the panel depicting Urd's well, unto the minor passage along the courtyard of living statues, around the Maiden's Chambers, to the fifth room where I knock twice, wait four counts, and knock three times. Got it. See you at dinner." Natasha gave Sif a firm nod, noted a look of surprise in the warrior's starry eyes, and whisked off to find her rooms.

* * *

The bedchamber put aside for her use was even larger than the one in Loki's 'prison'. She found a host of exquisite gowns hanging in a long closet, a massive table covered with gold brushes, combs, and maquillage, and a bed so tall there was a set of steps provided by the side to climb into it. Natasha looked in the clothes in the closet, sighed, and wondered if she could possibly go down to dinner in her jeans.

A side door opened, and Jane slipped in wearing a long blue dress with a round neckline. She saw Natasha and gave her a significant look. "Hey there! Everything go okay with Loki? I couldn't believe all those things about him in your report. And by the way, you  _do_  have to change. This banquet thing is a big deal, apparently."

Huffing a quiet howl of frustration, Natasha started to flip through the gowns hanging up in the closet. Before she could choose the plainest dress available, Jane interrupted. "You're supposed to bathe first, too. There's a bathroom in there – I think they call it a water chamber. Probably the tub is ready – mine was when I came in."

"For crying out loud." Natasha whisked a green gown off a hook, threw it on the bed, and stomped to the 'water chamber' where she stopped. "Get the hell out of here! Are you kidding me?"

Jane came up behind her, wrapped an arm around Natasha's waist, and giggled. There was a huge bath shaped like a seashell sunk into the floor, filled to the brim with steaming water. A smell of lavender hung in the air, and long towels hung over what looked like heated racks. "Not so shabby now, is it, girlfriend?"

* * *

Bathed and dressed, Natasha followed Jane down the stairs to the staterooms where they were to dine. Thor waited for them at the bottom of the long, spiral staircase, his usual grin displaying his utter joy. "My ladies," he proclaimed. "This will indeed be a night to remember!"

Sif stood behind him. When she caught Natasha's eye, the warrior raised her brows and pointedly turned away.  _  
_

"The All-Father wants to meet you," Thor added. He held out his arm for Jane, and Natasha followed, looking around and over her head. The hall was as large as a commuter train station, with lanterns hanging above them on long chains, casting a flickering light over the scene.

They stopped in front of Queen Frigga, who stood by her husband's side. "This is Thor's maiden friend," the queen said to Odin, indicating Jane. "And this is the mortal warrior I told you about earlier."

Odin inclined his head gravely. "I have received you both into Asgard as my honored guests. Let us go in to dine, and thence we may converse at our leisure." Thor and Jane prepared to follow, but Odin went on, "Lady Natasha, you require an escort. Volstagg!" He gestured with one arm.

A huge man with a red beard braided into sections draped over a chest as large as a barrel dropped what looked like an entire roast turkey into a trencher and wiped his hands on a proffered cloth. "Aye," he grunted.

"Take this maiden from Midgard in to dine on your arm," Odin proclaimed.

Volstagg caught sight of Natasha and his eyes lit up. "Good tidings, lass," he grinned. "Would'st need a guide throughout t'realm, Volstagg is the warrior for thee – I will slaughter nigh beast nor man what gets between us and a decent dinner. Ask any god or Aesir for leagues, eh lads?"

"Yes, if you like to know where the nearest fleabag tavern is located," Sif murmured, "or if you want your dwelling pulverized when he lets go a sneeze."

"Perhaps he could give me directions," Natasha retorted. "I'm rather good at those."

Volstagg lost the gist of the conversation and prodded Natasha with one thick finger. "Sit at my side, lass, and we shall taste the best of what Asgard has to offer. Eh?"

"Agent Romanova already has an escort," a smooth voice interrupted. Loki appeared at Natasha's elbow and offered his arm. "May I have the honor of taking you in to the banquet, Agent?"

"Why are  _you_  here?" Sif asked with a snarl. "I thought you were trussed up like a chicken in your little coop."

"Sif, always so pleasant to chat with you. However we must rush off, alas. Natasha, this way." Loki swiveled and strode towards a huge doorway at the far end of the hall, so quickly she could barely keep up.

"How on earth  _did_  you appear?" she asked.

"It seems the report you brought from Midgard was enough to win me my freedom for the evening. Like a chastised horse, the All-Father granted me a release for a few hours. I choose to spend them at your side, unless I am instructed to stand in a corner or beg under the tables with the other lapdogs for scraps." As he bit off his words with a grimace, they entered a dining hall even larger than the long hall. The table ran the length of the room, and Loki paraded her to an ornate chair made of gold, pulled it out, and sat next to her once she was settled. She could see his jaw work as he waited for the rest of the court to take their places at the immense dinner; plainly he was whipping himself into a fit of fury.

"I don't know why you are angry," she said. "This  _was_  your intention all along, wasn't it? To have me visit and show your father my report of your deeds in Midgard and to win you some measure of freedom as a result? Don't look so surprised I divined your intentions – I'm not entirely dull-witted, although I do sometimes have trouble keeping up with your moods." As he opened his mouth to retort, she calmly continued, "And before you protest that Odin is not your real father or start to spin your next scheme, consider this – the dinner tonight is probably a test."

"I should say it is definitely a test, and I refuse to submit to it." His frown deepened.

"As a matter of fact I can understand how you feel. I had my own test this afternoon." By this time, the table was filled with a glittering throng, Odin at a huge seat at the head and Frigga at his side. Next to them Thor and Jane were seated, as well as a woman who was so lovely she had to be a goddess. Sif was further down, next to Volstagg and several other warriors.

"Allow me to hazard a guess – Sif put you on your mettle?"

"Yes." Quickly she recounted the story of finding her bedchamber, which seemed to distract him somewhat. "And I know why you choose to lose your temper at an important banquet," she added.

"Oh? You actually think my anger is a deliberate choice?" Loki's head turned quickly to confront her, like a deadly serpent about to strike.

"Mm-hm." Unruffled, she took a small sip of wine from a goblet emblazoned with the figures of a lion and a unicorn. "It's too easy for you otherwise. You have to raise your own stakes and give yourself a bigger challenge so you can tickle the tail of the dragon instead of taking the game as it stands. It's what gets you off, isn't it? Straddling the line of safety and danger so you might tip either way, always just on the verge of losing your balance? I just don't see why you continue to give yourself the same hurdle to vault again and again – I would find that incredibly boring. You  _could_  test yourself in so many other ways – you probably thought of seven other schemes just now even as I speak."

"Eight, actually," Loki murmured. "And if you could stop reading my thoughts for a moment, I would appreciate it very much."

Natasha shook her head regretfully. "Can't do that, sorry. I understand your mind too well."

An ironic smile curled his thin lips. "Is this so?"

"This is indeed so. It's a fitful, hazardous place to visit, but I never did enjoy safety very much either. I'd much prefer to ride on the edge of a cliff, much as you…" She stopped with a gasp. Loki had begun to trail his fingers up her leg under the table, touching her inner thigh through the thin material of her new gown. Although no one else could see what he did under the heavy tablecloth, she felt her eyes flash with anger. "Loki, for heaven's sake! It is a state dinner _and_  the first time I meet your parents, have you forgotten? The Queen and the bloody All-Father, for heaven's sake, and you dare to..."

"Oh, do not mind me. I am listening to every word you say, especially when you advised me to find a different dangerous pursuit – and I believe I have found one." His eyes glittered with amusement, as the hand under the long tablecloth worked its way further up to touch her cleft. "Ahhh," Loki breathed as she jumped slightly, " _there_  she is – the one who consumes my thoughts day and night."

"Be careful with your fingers, sir. She may bite  _or_  she may tell you a story, but you never know which, do you?"

"A story!" He turned in his seat to fully face hers, and casually he lifted his goblet with his free hand to take a long draft of wine as he measured her with narrowed lids. "I should dearly love to hear what she has to say to me. I would imagine it would be a rousing tale of stars in the darkness - Natasha, what the  _Hel_  are you doing?"

She had placed her fingers on his leg under the table, lightly dragging them up to the inseam covering the evidence of his own bulging arousal. "Oh, don't mind me," she echoed in an airy tone. "I'm listening to every word you say."

At that he threw his head back with a shout of laughter, and one of Natasha's rare chuckles escaped her mouth. His humour entirely restored, he covered her hand under the table with his own and leaned dangerously close to her. "Take care, darling – any tales that particular fellow may spin will have a very warm ending."

"Perhaps she and he should have a conversation, in that case, to see who is able to tell the better story…"

Natasha stopped speaking. She realized there was silence throughout the long room, and every single face at the table was turned in her and Loki's direction. Odin wore an expression of astonishment, and Frigga dabbed her eyes with an exquisite handkerchief. Volstagg's mouth hung open. The beautiful goddess Natasha had noticed earlier laughed and toasted them with her wine glass. Jane looked astonished, and Thor had a huge smile on his face.

The god of thunder rose to his feet, grasped his glass, and held it over his head. "My friends, a toast!" he thundered. "To our guests, the lovely women of Midgard!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - I love Sif so much: her beauty and courage are intoxicating, and I think she'd be a great friend. However, I also bet she'd be difficult to get to know at first, as Natasha finds here.


	7. Sleep With Me

Once dinner was finished, the bards' songs applauded, and a long tale of Odin rescuing a maiden from bilgesnipe told by a rather drunk jester, Frigga rose and gestured to the assembled company. Natasha looked around as everyone got up to follow the queen to yet another imposing, golden room where strains of music could be heard.

As she got to her feet, Loki's arm snaked to hold her to his side. "And now we go and stumble around a overheated dance floor," he whispered in her ear. He followed his words with stream of breath and a tiny lick, and she tried not to let her knees crumple with desire. "And I am certain I shall have to compete for your hand among a clutch of would-be suitors. I foresee several duels in my future."

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "Did you  _see_  those other women at dinner?"

"No. I told you before, I only see one."

It was difficult not to melt under the influence of his continual charm. "I'm specifically talking about the goddess with long curling hair the color of ripe wheat. She raised her glass to us at dinner. Who is she?"

He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips along her knuckles. "I suppose you mean Freya, the goddess of love and beauty. She is always delighted with herself when a couple is so obviously about to have their way with each other in bed."

"Loki!" Natasha gasped into his face, and his cheeky grin spread to reveal the white teeth and his fascinating dimples as his arm tightened around her.

"Do not plan on attending this infernal dance for very long." His whisper was right by her ear, making her shiver with its intensity.

"Prince Loki, my son. Lady Natasha." Odin's imperious voice broke into their shared reverie, and Loki looked up with a snarl.

"What do  _you_ wish?"

The All-Father was unperturbed. "The youngest princess of Vaneheim is here on a visit. I wish you to take her in for the first dance…"

"Absolutely not." A stormy look came into his face.

"Of course he will," Natasha interrupted. She grasped Loki's collar with both hands and went on tiptoes to speak to him quietly. "Do as your father says and be polite about it, or our 'conversation' will not take place. Do I make myself clear?" He started to protest, but she interrupted, "I'll take no arguments. No, be off with you, Mischief, and please don't glamour the poor girl. You want to flirt with the princess, not seduce her."

" _What_ did you just call me? Mischief? I suppose I cannot deny it fits. Very well, but after this you are all mine."

Odin's gaze never faltered, but his lips quivered as Loki gave a brusque nod to them both and went off to find the princess. After a brief hesitation, Odin turned to Natasha. "The queen would like to speak with you. However, I see a great crowd of suitors headed our way – it seems you are in for a time of being in demand."

"Me? Can't be." Natasha shook her head, but she was proved wrong. A group of men and several women rushed up to surround her, all talking at once.

"May I have this dance, Lady Natasha?" asked a youthful courtier with long golden hair.

"Do not listen to the boy, it is  _my_  hand you want." This came from an older gentleman with chestnut curls and a scar slashed across one cheek.

"Where did you acquire your dress? It is divine!" A young goddess touched the material of Natasha's gown admiringly.

"Nay!" Volstagg wedged himself through the crowd. "Thou art all a swarm of wet minnows, and the lady best take the man who can swing her the fastest in the Hringr."

There was a chorus of protests, and Natasha held up one hand. "Enough!" she called out. "Volstagg was supposed to bring me to dinner. Therefore if I  _must_  choose anyone, he must be the one."

"Ha! The lady has taste," Volstagg cried out in triumph. The huge Viking grasped her hand and dragged her onto the floor. A lively dance was already in process, and as he swung her into the fray, she saw Loki pass by with stern look in his eye and a very young, dazed-looking girl on his arm. "Lean on me, Lady, and let us show these children a thing or two," Volstagg roared at the top of his lungs.

The Hringr, she found, was simple enough: she was swirled around at top speed by the warrior, released to stamp her feet, clap, reverse directions, and do it again. It reminded her of several Russian dances she had learned as a child. The music provided by a horde of musicians was lively, and once she got the hang of the movements she found she was enjoying herself. She always liked to dance, and Volstagg was a simple companion: loud and boastful but intent on enjoying each moment of bearing her around the floor. He bent to attend her every word, laughed uproariously at her comments, and at the end of the dance bent to kiss her hand. "Well done, lass – we taught them how it was done. Eh? Wilt thou attend me in another later?"

"We'll see." Privately she doubted Loki would be very happy about that.

Volstagg seemed happy enough with her answer and left her to return to his companions, spreading his arms wide and bellowing to them across the room. "Friends! Congratulate me! I am in love again!"

As soon as Natasha was alone, the queen found her. "Come and speak with me now, if you will."

Natasha saw Loki with a face like thunder crossing the floor towards her. "Best hurry," she cautioned, and slipped with Frigga into a hidden seat out of sight of the throng.

"I simply must ask you – how have you enchanted my son so?" Frigga shook her head in bewilderment. "Never have I seen him so pleasant, so compliant. I feared he would be banished by now or at least turned into a mistletoe tree once he and Odin confronted each other this eve. Truth be known, I dreaded the usual stream of ironic curses and sarcastic stories he spews at these celebrations… but you seem to wind him around your little finger with ease."

"It's not magic, if that's what you mean," Natasha replied. "Loki is extremely complex, but like most men he's simple enough once you know how to manage him."

Frigga reached out and took both Natasha's hands in her own. "I almost am brave enough to hope Loki will eventually win his complete freedom as well as happiness. However, I feel you are a large part of that. Without you near, I fear he would immediately return to his old tricks and tantrums. Tell me, how long will you stay with us?"

"I really must return the instant Nick Fury requires my help. My plan was to ask Heimdall to inform me when I have to go back on the job."

"Would you consider staying here instead? You could learn Asgardian warfare and fight alongside Lady Sif and her Warriors. It would mean you could stay by Loki's side…"

"Allow me to propose on my own, Mother." Loki stalked around the column shielding the seat from the dance floor; his dark brows were drawn together, and there was a sharp warning in his voice. However, Natasha considered, the mere fact he called Frigga 'Mother' was a huge improvement on his earlier black mood.

The Queen seemed happy at his words. She rose, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and smiled warmly at Natasha. "I am so pleased you came to us. Now, my son, you will simply have to do your best to persuade her to stay in Asgard."

"Indeed, but 'twould be best to use subtlety instead of bludgeoning her over the head and dragging her off to a cavern." Loki bowed and held out his hand to Natasha as Frigga left them. "Forget whatever she said to you – and forget everyone else in the room. I will not see you with any other this night." With a sudden movement he pulled her close. "Will you dance with me, darling?" he asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back so she could look up into his face. "Is it another round of the Hringr?"

"I do not know, nor do I …" His voice trailed away. "Truth to tell, with your arms around me and your sweet form pressed to mine like this, I feel I cannot move from this spot."

She saw the delicate skin of his neck jump as his pulse leaped like a salmon; the bold caresses they had shared in secret under the table and the prolonged kisses in his captive's library combined to set her mind and body on fire. "Loki, I – I can't move either. What are we to do…" The slightest motion of him next to her would be enough to set her off, and her shudder caused an answering ripple through his body. She was afraid she might wind her legs around his waist right there in the ballroom in front of warriors and goddesses, and her heartbeat threatened to choke her. His ragged breath on her throat made her feel faint. "Mischief, what…?"

"Enough. I think the only questions are When, Where, and How, and the answers are Now, In My Bed, and Every Way Possible." He smiled, the promise of deep kisses and forbidden knowledge flashing in his eyes.

"Oh, my. Will it matter if we leave early?"

"I care not. Come with me _now,"_  he growled into her neck, and in a whirlwind the ballroom disappeared.

* * *

The fire blazed in the hearth, and the dressing gown still hung over one arm of the large chair. Natasha and Loki appeared into his bedroom in a blink of his magic; instantly he folded her into a deep kiss. His earlier gentleness was completely gone; his teeth and tongue rent her mouth as though he were intent on plundering every atom of her body. "Natasha," he gasped, as he took the neckline of her dress in his fist and with a quick movement ripped the gown and underclothes open to reveal her naked body under the green silk. It was shockingly sexy to feel the air on her in such a violent way.

"Is that how we are playing now?" She allowed anger to simmer in her voice and pulled his coat off, knowing he would enjoy a frisson of danger in their loveplay. Underneath his shirt was dazzling white. Natasha yanked the lapels apart with her fists, ripping open the fine fabric.

"I liked that shirt," he muttered in her ear.

"I liked that dress. Now be silent." Natasha sucked on his lower lip, pulled it between her teeth. He groaned, picked her up, and tossed her onto the bed; before she could move he climbed on top of her and plunged his tongue into her mouth again.

"Kiss me and do not stop," Loki ordered. Natasha let her tongue slide over his lips. He licked her in turn, and she tasted the wine he drank earlier, as well as pine and his own masculine flavor, strong and sharp.

Her veins buzzed with arousal, her skin shivered with desire. "I missed you," she couldn't help saying to him. At once he stopped, pushed himself up on one long arm to look down at her.

"Do you mean that?"

"You know I do. You were present in those dreams we shared, weren't you? Don't tell me you weren't aware of them. I won't believe you."

"Of course I was, but…" He leaned back on his elbow, pushed the black hair out of his face, and gave her a rueful grin. Suddenly he looked absurdly young. "No one ever misses me," he said in a low voice.

Natasha's lungs overflowed; she felt like a girl drowning under the black frost of ice. As Loki frowned, perhaps at some bitter memory, she claimed his strong, hard shoulders with her arms and drew him close to simply hold him for a moment. "Their loss.  _I_  found it difficult to go on without you, but I told you not to let it go to your head."

"And I told you, everything goes to my head. Especially your kisses – they are like precious liqueur, like the apples of Idunn. I just cannot get enough of you…"

Natasha silenced him with her lips. She wanted to taste his tongue, feel her legs start to shake with desire, his body tremble under her hands. He bit her neck, licked the flesh on her breasts, sucked the dark cone of her nipple into his mouth, blew on it to watch it peak and harden. His breath blazed down her stomach, between her thighs, where he found the flitting bumblebee of her sex, licked her softly, swirling her with his lips and tongue.

She screamed, bent backwards, and he grasped her hips with both arms, lifted her up to his mouth like a feast. "Loki, I may just lose it when you circle your tongue over me like that. Where did you learn such things, it's just beyond comprehension, I can't believe the way you make me feel, it's as though you love it as much as I do," she warned him between gasps.

His laughter was laced with lust. Natasha shivered as he prowled towards her on the bed, pounced, and kissed her deeply again. She could taste herself on his lips. "Do you see? You are delicious… nectar and honey…" The weight of his erect shaft between her thighs made her jolt upward and take in a sharp breath. "Are you ready for me, darling? I am desperate for it," he exclaimed.

"Yes, do me  _now_ …" Her voice rose into shriek as he entered her and drove his hardness into her soft center, shouting with delight and longing. Withdrawing achingly slow, he pushed his entire length into her again and again, his face contorted with pleasure so intense it almost looked like pain. "Never," she gasped. "I never felt anything like this."

"Nor I. You have me – Natasha, I am on fire."

"You  _are_  on fire. You're burning me now, inside and out…I can feel every inch of you…"

"I … cannot…" At his words, a confession of undoing, she felt her core begin to pound, building up to a peak of unbearable sensation. He fucked her with one last thrust, clasping her body to his, vibrating with fever and release, rolling to one side, grasping her legs with his hands, biting the side of her neck as they both spent inside and around each other, like impassioned young lovers discovering the joys of laying together for the first time.

Their bodies shook with the aftermath; she felt as though she had come back into herself from a long voyage across an alien sea. He shuddered as she ran her fingernails down the elegant curl of his spine to elicit the last drops of his seed.

He sucked in a quick breath, tried to speak, collapsed onto her. For a long moment neither of them moved, and she felt their combined sweat pool between their bellies. At last he gasped, "Where did you learn  _that_  little trick?"

"This?" She fingered his spine again, and he closed his eyes.

"Mercy! Gods, I shall be undone."

"Did you just beg me for mercy?"

"Do not let it go to your head." His dark smile made her tremble as he covered her lips with his.

* * *

Much later Natasha slid out of the bath she had shared with him. The water puddled on the floor from their vigours, and her hair clung to her neck in wet tendrils. As she stepped into a huge towel, Loki climbed out behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "You'll have to carry me to your bed," she said. "I literally cannot walk."

Before she could finish speaking, he swept her up in his arms and strode to the bed. He had used his magic to remake it; the sheets were fresh and folded back ready for them. "Shall I conjure you some wine or fruit? Anything?"

"Just you," she sighed, nestling close to him. Gently he kissed her lips swollen with lovemaking and nuzzled her neck. "What about my dress?" she demanded. "How will I get back to my room when we are finished?"

"We will never be finished, darling, and you shall stay here if I have any say in it. I have discovered the advantage of being a prisoner: it is like being in a bubble with you."

"You'd be bored after several hours," she warned.

"You are speaking to the god who was chained to a rock for years and held within more dungeon rooms more times than I can count. We could play Hnefatafl, read, paint, or simply talk together. I want to know all your stories, your thoughts – everything about you."

"Eventually I'll have to return, though." She played idly with a strand of his black hair.

"To being an assassin? I thought you were offered a different life here on Asgard this night."

"Yes, but I can't simply…" A thought struck her, and Natasha sat up. " _That's_  what I wanted to tell you. I spoke with Nick Fury after you left Midgard, and he agreed to help me try and convince the SHIELD council to agree to your return. We could work together, Loki – you did a lot of good during the last case. Would you like that?"

He lay back on the pillows and tugged at her ringlets as they cascaded over his face. "Work with you? But you have a partner, or so I understand."

"Oh, yes - that's anothe _r_  thing I meant to talk to you about. I told you Anzhela was pregnant when you and I were in the tree branches together, do you remember? Well, the father is none other than my former partner. How do you like that?"

Loki struggled to suppress a grin, but when she dug her fingers in his side to tickle him he burst out into hearty laughter. "I am sorry!" he gasped. "Surely this is a tender issue for you, darling, but to think of the archer as a father of your great niece – actually, it all fits, does it not?"

She snorted, snuggled into his arms, and yawned. "We have a great deal to think about, you and I."

"And we shall, tomorrow. Sleep with me, Natasha. Go to sleep now by my side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, lovely readers, for your comments and kudos. You inspire every single day.


	8. Rainbows and Mirrors

A long tendril of smoky sunshine invaded their room. Loki watched it slide across the carpet, up the bed, to light Natasha's curls tangled with his straight black locks. She breathed lightly, and her expression was peaceful; her head was a sweet weight on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes for a moment to laugh at himself. A year earlier, would he have recognized this lovestruck fool lying so quietly after hours of tender embraces with the very woman who was his sworn enemy?

For he  _was_  lovestruck; he could no longer deny that reality. It was as though a star had flashed into his dark sky, a bright planet on the horizon of the barren moon he once accepted as his eternal landscape. Friendship, joy, deep satisfaction, tenderness: all those foreign emotions she had brought into his life, and he could no longer imagine a future if Natasha were not in it.  _I am in love with her,_  Loki thought, and even as he smiled a tear trickled down his cheek. Love, he had found eons ago as a youth and as Angrboda's young husband, was a debilitating force that struck down its victims before eviscerating them.

A surge of panicked fear coursed through him, melting his bones. He could never allow that to happen – he had to have Natasha for his own, forever. If she left now he would come apart; he knew it.

Immediately his restless mind conjured a thousand possibilities for her amusement to keep her by his side. With a wave of his hand he set a table next to the bed set with gold and crystal, as well as a tiny tree on which different fragrant blossoms and luscious fruits hung for Natasha to pick and eat, should she wish. There were pitchers of honeyed milk, warm chocolate, fragrant leaves steeped in hot water, bowls of tiny pastries, linen napkins folded into lilies and swans.

He waved his hand again and created several presents – the emerald she had discarded the night before in his library now set in an ornate chain of dwarves' gold. Once it was finished, he held it up and frowned – the jewel looked too heavy, too formal for Natasha. He put it in a drawer and instead conjured up a slim, silver pendant in the shape of the runic Helm of Awe inlaid with several moonstones and suspended it from a length of leather; she could wear it on her wrist or neck, whichever she chose.

She had mentioned a dress – Loki decided on something simple and comfortable, a light wool shift to kilt up should she want to go riding later. He added several books, a tiny gold figure of a ballerina, a clockwork bird to sing at her command.

His Natasha was a warrior, and thus he fashioned a set of armour for her designed like fish scales to fit to her body with ease and move with her, and with it a sword long enough for her strength and skill, short enough to maneuver easily. The thought of Natasha clad like a silver fish, brandishing a sword and fighting by his side, made the blood rush to his hardened sex; he stirred restlessly in the bed, causing her to mumble something before falling back to sleep.

Since she still didn't wake, Loki decided to create something for himself. Summoning the picture of herself she had given him the night before, he fashioned a jeweled frame around her face with its secret smile and set it on the table by his side of the bed. He copied the portrait and turned it into a miniature to hang off his belt – now he could look upon Natasha's image whenever he desired.

Another flash of his enchantment dotted the window of the chamber with tiny crystals, sending rainbows dancing throughout the room. He added a symphony of mice on the heavy mantel to play sweet music. Boxes of potpourri spilt lush scent throughout his chambers. Mirrors reflected the whole on the walls and on the ceiling; his image smirked back at him from above.

While she dreamed on he continued to create wonder upon wonder, all to greet his lady when she woke.

* * *

"No more injections!" Natasha screamed, and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, looking around wildly. "What happened? Where am I?"

Instantly Loki was by her side to slip his arm around her and nuzzle her neck. "Safe, with me. You are here, darling, in our own chamber. What a long time you have been asleep - I could hardly bear another moment of waiting for you."

She looked around, frowning as she took in the table, the mirrors, flowers, rainbows, a riot of presents cascading over the eiderdown. "What happened here?" she asked. Her mouth opened as she took it all in.

Loki's face fell and his shoulders slumped. "You do not like it."

"It's beautiful." She moved to take his face in her hands. "Did you do this?"

His expression morphed from one of misery to utter joy. "There is no one else here, think on't."

Natasha shook her head in disbelief. "Is this what goes on in that mind of yours when you aren't bent on destroying a realm or taking over our planet? It's amazing –  _you_  are amazing. Truly, Loki, you are an artist. I've never seen anything so lovely, so filled with colour and breathtaking imagination."

"I have." His eyes bored into hers. "Every moment you are with me, you put all of Asgard to shame."

"Oh, hush…" As he bent to kiss her, she moved away and escaped. "You know, I'm sure gods and goddesses have that morning breath thing figured out, but as a mere mortal I need a little help. Any chance you could conjure me up a toothbrush?"

He began to snicker and waved towards the room where they had bathed together the night before. "As you wish, although you are like a rose to me, darling."

"Well, your 'rose' needs a few minutes." Natasha got up, pulled on his dragonfly dressing gown, and padded in to get washed up. She knew he was dying for her to open gifts, exclaim over everything he had created… Still, she had to catch her breath. As she rinsed and brushed her hair back, her eyes looked back at her from the mirror; they were bright as though she had been taking some old-fashioned drug like opium or laudanum. Her lips were swollen from Loki's kisses, and a trail of lovebites ran down her neck.

When she returned, he was pacing the room like a caged tiger. As soon as he saw her, he halted and picked her up in his arms to whirl her around in a circle. "Will you look at your presents now?" His eyes bore an anxious expression. "Which will you open first?"

Natasha held him and tenderly kissed his cheek, his nose, his intelligent forehead, the soft skin of his eyelids. "I'd really like to check out those ceiling mirrors. Did you think I wouldn't notice them right away?"

Loki sucked in his breath and bared his teeth as he pulled the dressing gown off her body. "Naughty little puss, are you not? Perhaps you need someone to tame you."

"Are you that someone? Is that what you think?"

A dangerous spark kindled in his eyes. "Oh, yes."

* * *

Several hours later Natasha managed to win Loki's agreement to letting her get dressed. She wore her new attire and the Helm of Awe around her neck; when he saw the jewel his face lit up with one of his blinding smiles. In one hand she carried the sword. Her plan was to find Sif and beg for lessons in chivalric warfare; the education would be far from pleasant, but she had an idea the lady knight could teach her a great deal.

If she did end up in Asgard for any length of time, she certainly couldn't spend her time opening gifts and dancing the Hringr – a full-time diet of luxury and sweetness would drive her insane. On that thought, she added horseback riding and Asgardian studies to the list of things to investigate during her time in the realm.

"You insist on confronting Sif?" Loki asked for the third time as she prepared to step out of his prison. "It is easy to imagine her response: 'I do not have time to waste on you, I must beat Volstagg senseless with my scabbard and polish my pauldrons until they glow like Urd's Bottom.'" He snorted. Natasha gave one of her hoarse little chuckles at his perfect imitation, and he seized her for one final, passionate kiss. "I love coaxing out that rare laugh of yours – be certain to return to me very soon so I may do it again."

Before he could release her, she cupped his face with one hand. "I wish you could come with me. That would be the best present you could ever give me, Loki - your own freedom. I would like  _you_  to be my instructor, not warrior maidens or bearded Vikings."

A thoughtful look came into his eye. As she pressed the green rune on her wrist to the glass of his cage, he stood by the wall with one fist raised, watching her intently just as he had the very first time they spoke together. It seemed an age – so much had changed between them since that long ago time.

Natasha blew him a kiss, swung the sword onto her shoulder, and sauntered off feeling rather pleased with herself. She had just given him a reason to behave or at least not act like a complete raving lunatic all the time; if he kept up his present evolution from manic-depressive villain to somewhat-reasonable sentient being, it would make her life much easier.

* * *

As Loki predicted, Sif was not pleased at Natasha's request for lessons. "I am far too busy," the maiden replied, polishing an apple for her iron-clad steed. "Go and ask Fandral."

"You are the best warrior in the realm, or so I hear. And you'll find I'm not unseasoned – I do know a thing or two about fighting."

"Fighting!" Sif crossed her arms. "You might be able to perform gymnastics, but I doubt you can hold a lance or wield a true weapon."

Natasha lost her temper. "Weapon?" She felt in her sleeve for her ceramic knife, a deadly little dart like a sting. With a quick motion she threw the blade; it lodged in Sif's apple between her fingers. "Like that, you mean?"

Sif dropped the apple with a curse. "Tyr's Balls! What did you…?" With a venomous look, she knelt and examined the tiny knife. Removing it from the fruit, she climbed to her feet, gave the apple to the tossing steed, and flipped the knife back to Natasha. "A mere toy. Come back to me when you are able to stand upright under a hog's weight of armour."

"That 'toy' dispatched a German businessman and several counteragents. Be glad I chose not to activate the poison in its tip - you'd be dead in seventy seconds and so would your horse." Natasha tilted her head and gave Sif a long, unwavering look.

The maiden tested her horse's saddle, climbed onto his back with one motion, and seemed to make up her mind. "This afternoon, before evensong. Be here on time – I will not wait for you."

"Of course." With a flush of exaltation, Natasha watched Sif ride off, standing in the stirrups to pick off a passing huntsman on his buttocks with the flat of her longsword. The man bellowed with pain, fell into the dust, and got to his feet clutching his hindquarters. With a loud curse, he shook his fist at the departing figure on horseback.

Natasha felt her lips curve.  _A show-off,_  she thought.  _I like that._

* * *

"Another!" Sif shouted. "You must never stand still, nor must you dance around like a toad in hot milk. Cover and close in with your sword as I showed you, and be more aggressive!"

Flipping the hair out of her eyes, Natasha faced Fandral again. She knew enough from her experience not to bash away at him with abandon but instead to time a counter-strike in the middle of his offensive. However, there were a host of other rules to remember: no edge on sword edge, instead she had to use her flat on Fandral's edge or better yet, her edge on the flat side of his blade.

After an hour of prolonged effort, a long stream of Russian curse words, and several cuts on her arms, Natasha managed to close the distance between them. She timed a thrust with perfect leverage and removed Fandral's sword from his hands. As it clattered onto the field, she heard Sif shout, "Well done!" This was followed by a cough, and the muttered comment, "For a beginner, that is."

As the three of them made their way back to the palace, Sif tossed back her long, black curls. "Well? What do you make of it? I suppose you will need a few days to recuperate, or more likely you will give it up altogether."

"Swordplay is much more intense than I expected," Natasha admitted. "It is a constant change, isn't it? You have to measure not only your opponent's moves, but also his position, distance, and leverage. Timing is essential as well. I'd say it's the most difficult but fascinating form of warfare I've ever studied."

Sif raised her eyebrows, turned the corners of her mouth down in surprise, and nodded. "Exactly so," she agreed. "However, you still wear your armour as would a fish in a teakettle – your helm can be used as a weapon instead of an impediment if you learn do so correctly. Will you come for another bout on the morrow?"

"Yes, indeed." Natasha suddenly thought of something to curb her enthusiasm. "That is, if I'm not recalled to Midgard for another case."

"Case? What nonsense. Shooting at little men in suits and placing explosives in strategic areas. Stay here and learn how to become a _true_  warrior." Sif snorted with derision and unbuckled her breastplate.

"I have responsibilities there…" Natasha started.

"More nonsense. Your first responsibility is to your inner knight, to become the strongest fighter within your power. Fandral!" Sif added in a loud blast. "You owe us the first round of mead!"

"Aye," her companion agreed morosely. "'Tis only just." He clapped Sif on the shoulder and the three of them walked towards the palace, covered in dust and muck.

* * *

Natasha snuck up to her own bedchamber to get changed, not wanting to sink into another long encounter with Loki. He would certainly insist on removing her armour himself, giving her a bath, getting into the hot water with her…By the time the two of them were done, it would be midnight. She certainly intended to make love with him several times that evening, but first she hoped to speak to Jane.

The scientist was in the chamber next to hers, concentrating on a long scroll. When Natasha entered the room, Jane looked up, laughter in her eyes. "Soooo," she said. "That bed of yours doesn't look very slept in, Agent Natasha Romanova. Walk of shame much? Are those lovebites I see on your neck? And what's this – armour?"

"Loki's gift. Sweet, right?"

"Thor gave me a pile of precious magical documents. They're fascinating – it's amazing studying time-space relativity from this end of the Bifrost." Jane indicated the scroll in her hand. "He also made me accept this." She held up her hand; a bracelet with a huge ruby hanging from the clasp flashed on her wrist.

In answer, Natasha pointed to the silver Helm tied around her neck. "Yup. I still have a host of other gifts to open – I told him I wanted to get a lesson in warfare first."

"Me too," Jane confessed. "I begged for a few hours on my own to study the correlation between magic and science."

"I'm surprised he isn't here with you."

"I sent him off on a long hunt with Volstagg. Maybe it will tire him out a bit." Jane collapsed into a richly carved seat.

"Aha! Maybe I'm not the  _only_  one doing the walk of shame, hm?" Natasha sobered and added, "Of course, Loki has nothing to do all day but stalk around that prison of his. I expect an explosion of pent-up energy later."

Jane giggled. "Problems of dating demigods, 101."

"First lesson, tire your dude out as much as possible so you can survive the night. Jane, what are your plans? I mean, are you going back to Midgard soon?" Natasha balanced her hip against the long dressing table and rested her sword by her side.

"I do need to settle things at the lab. It would be really wrong to just beetle off to Asgard forever and desert Darcy and Erik. Still, when Thor gives me those puppy-dog eyes…"

"Right. That 'You're breaking my heart, and by the way I'm beautiful enough to break yours with one lift of my eyebrow' look."

"Right." Jane drew in a long breath and indicated the Helm of Awe on Natasha's neck. "You know when you start getting jewels it's a precursor to Asgardian marriage, girlfriend."

"Shit. I – shit. And by the way, how about …" Natasha pointed to the ruby bracelet on Jane's arm.

"I know, I know."

They looked at each other and spoke at the same time. "We're hosed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the lovely feedback, dear readers. You keep me inspired, every single moment.


	9. Violence and Arrogance

The laces of her dress tied, Natasha turned to leave her room and visit Loki. As she crossed her chamber there was a loud hammer of annoyed knocks. Before she could get to the door, it burst open to reveal the god of mischief himself, brimming with bad temper. "What are you doing  _here?"_  he shouted, waving one long arm as he strode into her chambers.

Feeling her own anger rise, Natasha slammed the door shut behind him. "Let's not bellow down the hallway, shall we? I prefer to be the only one privileged enough to enjoy your little tantrums. And to answer your question I happen to be getting dressed. Shocking I know, but there it is. Once I was in my clothes, I intended to come and see you. Or would you rather have me march through the palace naked?"

Loki seized her arms in both hands. "Why didn't you get dressed in our chambers below? I can conjure any dress you like."

"Because I wanted to talk to Jane first, and also I knew if I came to your rooms in my muddy armour you would make me take a bath."

He tilted his head back in his usual arrogant manner. "Are you opposed to baths now? You were not last night."

"No, but I knew you would climb into the water with me and we wouldn't get anything else done until midnight at the very least."

His eyes battled with hers for a long moment before he started to laugh. "I cannot deny it. You have thought it all out, I see."

"And how are  _you_  out of your prison?" she asked.

A pleased look came into Loki's eyes. "I have been granted liberty within the palace grounds. My freedom, it appears, grows apace. Beware, Natasha – now I shall be able to plague you at all hours. Do you know something? I feel rather sorry for you, darling."

"Do you? I don't. Seeing you chained up even in the luxury you created for yourself went against the ways of nature – it was like watching a phoenix in a cage. I much prefer to see you within the halls of the palace where you should be, Your Royal Badness. Besides, now you have other pursuits for your very extensive energies besides ravishing my body."

His face grew astonished, amused, and lusty by turns while she spoke.  _It is never necessary to wonder what he thinks,_  she mused,  _his face tells me everything I want to know._

"I am indeed released, but I would argue your body remains the focus of my energies – that, and your own sparkling personality. And your lips, and your neck, and the turn of your wrists." He picked up her hand and pressed a passionate kiss on the inside of her arm. "Gods, your skin – you smell like dew and fresh linen." He released her suddenly and looked about the room. "Where is the sword I gave you?"

She pointed to where it lay on a table on an oiled linen cloth. "There. Sif told me I must polish it every night."

Loki crossed the room in several long strides, pausing only to give her a humourous glance. "You will indeed be polishing the sword every night, if I have any say in it." Her gruff guffaw echoed in the chamber, and the dimples appeared in his cheeks. "Behold an example of my swordplay." He hefted the blade in his hand and strutted towards her. With one sure stroke he cleaved the dress she had on from neck to hem, so the gown parted and hung open over her naked body.

Natasha gasped with rage and tried to hold the dress closed over her body. "Loki!" she shouted. "Would you please stop ruining my clothes? And have you any idea how long it took to get dressed in that gown?"

Her wrath only served to make him laugh harder. He dropped the sword, grasped her waist, and his mirth bubbled against her breasts and belly. When he could speak, he looked down at her. "Helping a maiden off with her attire is something I am rather good at. And by the way, I like the stockings – they are a nice touch."

"I meant to surprise you with them later," she said, "but I see you are one of those dreadful people who rip open their presents straight away. Thanks for not eviscerating me with my own sword, by the way." Under her dress she had nothing on save a pair of black stockings gartered at her thighs and silk slippers with jeweled louis heels.

"You are too luscious - I simply must have you this instant." He stripped off the remnants of her dress and tossed her onto the bed. When she landed, she crossed her legs and swung one shoe perilously from her toe.

"Do you like your handiwork?" she asked. "And please notice your tunic is still all in one piece –  _I_ do not wave a sword around the room like a buffoon."

"I do indeed like my handiwork, very much." He ripped his tunic into two pieces with one motion and cast the ruined shirt on the floor. As Loki crawled on top of her the swollen arousal in his breeches was very evident. "There, we are even. No more complaints from you, darling." As he bit into her neck and sucked on her lower lip, he added, "Did you think you had tamed me? Silly girl. You have only unleashed the beast."

"I suppose it's all  _my_  fault now…" She gasped as he bent and bit the smooth skin just above the black silk of her stocking. "Don't make me scream too loudly. Jane is right next door."

Loki paused and listened intently. Through the wall she heard Thor's low voice and Jane's light laugh, followed by a prolonged silence. "It would seem we are not the only ones engaged in swordplay, darling."

"Hmm. And you could at least take off your pants, if you insist on ripping all my dresses in half."

He held himself up on his arms and looked down at her, considering. "Maybe. Depends on whether you deserve it or no."

"Oh, I think I do." She wound her legs around his waist to dig the heels of her shoes into his back; he groaned and ran his tongue between her breasts, over her stomach to the vibrating flesh betweens her thighs. Natasha grasped the bedpost with one hand, arched up, and covered her mouth with her palm.

At once he reared up and tore her hand away from her face. "I want you to scream. I  _want_  the entire palace to know we are lovers."

"I – I – I think they already get the idea…" It was difficult to talk. She had never felt anything more delicious in her life than Loki's skin on hers, the bite of his teeth on her shoulder, her legs wound around his leather breeches, the hot rush of his breath next to her ear, his lips capturing hers, lapped with tongue against soft tongue. The passionate kiss went on and on, their tongues circling, darting, his lips nipping hers. It was frightening, it was dangerous, forbidden – overwhelmingly exciting. So much so that when he slid over the swollen bud of her sex with a mere brush of his thumb, she was so pent-up she came straight away, moaning into his mouth.

His kisses slowed, became gentler, and when she had settled down a bit, he looked into her eyes. "Ah," he said. "Now." Loki guided her hand to the flap of his breeches, and she unbuckled them as quickly as she could to rip the leather off his legs with her shoes.

"You made me wait," she hissed. "I might just punish you for that…" She let her eyes flash as she dug one heel into his thigh, raised her other leg over his shoulder. He would like the strong nature she usually repressed in bed; most men were intimidated, but Loki could match her violent tendencies with his own arrogance.

"I like the shoes," he groaned, "but they are too exciting – darling, I  _must_  fuck you this instant." Natasha responded by arching her back again, meeting him halfway as he drove his length into her with one thrust. "Gods! You are so wet, so tight, so wonderful. It is like heaven. I want to do this for hours, I want to be inside you all night long…"

"And you are so hard, you touch me right in the nicest spots, it's so delicious, I never felt anything like this, Loki…"

"Nor have I... and when you writhe like that under me, I think I might lose my mind." Panting, he moved slowly, then quickened his stroke, slowed again in exquisite torture.

Natasha escaped, making him hiss, and pressed him back on the mattress. Swinging one leg over his hips, she lowered herself onto his shaft and swiveled her hips. "Like this? Or more like this?" She changed her rhythm to undulate like a snake, holding Loki's eyes with hers. "You are my captive - I'm going to make you talk if I have to ride you all night..."

"Wait, shh – don't move." He held her hips still, eyes closed, shuddering. At length he recovered himself, breathed out and moved inside her again. "I want to make it last, darling. I want to keep making love to you, it feels too nice to stop."

His voice was like liquid caramel; it poured over her and made her tense with pleasure and draw in a quick, desperate breath. She teetered on the brink, timing it to crash when he was ready. "I mean it," she whispered. "It's like we were made for each other. The perfect fit. I don't want anyone else, ever."

He stopped moving again and looked up at her with wide eyes. "Do you  _truly_  mean that?"

"I do." She took a long, sobbing breath. "I was afraid to say it before, but I'm not any longer."

His hand slid behind her head to cradle her into a sweet kiss, and he managed to roll her underneath him again, never breaking the kiss. When his lifted his lips from hers, he said in a hushed tone, the tenderest voice she had ever heard from him, "Natasha. It is impossible for me to hold back the words any longer. You - I must tell you you hold my heart."

As they rocked together, she looked directly in his eyes. "I will slit the throat of  _anyone_  who tries to come between us," she promised.

It was too much; her confession drove him over the brink. He understood exactly what she meant to say. With a savage cry he reared up and she felt him spurt into her, hot delirious jets of fulfilled desire. At the same moment she contracted and vibrated around him, shaking with violent passion and love.

* * *

When at last they could move again, she evaded his grasp and slid out of bed. Sauntering across the room, she started to flip through the clothes hanging in her closet. Loki vaulted from the pillows to join her, looking with interest at the gowns hanging inside. "Darling, these are tragic. You need something befitting your beauty." With one stroke of his hand, the contents of her closet disappeared.

"Seriously, what  _is_  it about you and my clothes here in Asgard? That makes about twenty dresses you have now destroyed – oh." The closet filled again, with silky tunics, light leather pants, soft wool dresses in all colors, riding clothes, and severely fitted jackets.

She turned her face up to him, and his face dimpled at her. "Better? Let me think, now – perhaps this gown in black velvet. Yes, I should like to see your creamy skin and bright hair flame above the dark fabric, like a candle in the night."

Her protests were cut off as he tipped up her chin to kiss her and whisper soft words of love into her neck. "Okaaaaaay," she groaned.

* * *

In the hall, Loki held out his arm for her to hold. "You look incredibly beautiful," he said, raking her up and down with his eyes. The dress had wide bands of Scandinavian embroidery under her bust and at the hem. Severely cut to skim her figure, the neckline dipped low in a square just above her breasts; the long black sleeves stopped just at her wrists. The velvet was so soft it swished over her ankles as she walked.

"Are we going to be late for dinner?" Natasha asked.

As he opened his mouth to respond Yes, Jane's door opened. Thor and the scientist stole into the passage; Jane jumped when she saw Natasha on Loki's arm. "Oh! Hi there," she said with studied nonchalance. "We were just reading the scrolls Thor gave me earlier."

"Is  _that_  what they call it these days?" Natasha couldn't help asking. Loki immediately started to laugh.

Thor blushed, but Jane crossed her arms. "Really? You're going there?  _Really,_  girlfriend? And how was that pent-up energy you mentioned earlier, Natasha?"

Natasha nodded. "Touché."

"We are going to be in trouble," Thor cautioned. "Father does not like it when guests arrive late."

Natasha turned to her lover. "Loki? It's all you."

He threw a ball of light into the air. When it cleared, all four of them stood in front of the dining hall, just as Odin shouted for the throng to go and be seated.

Loki sat at her side; he seemed to have firmly established it as his chosen place. As she slid into her chair next to him, Natasha thought she was starting to become accustomed to Asgard; Freya blew her a kiss, Volstagg bellowed her name and lifted his cup to toast her, and even Sif nodded when Natasha caught her eye. As for the Queen, as soon as she saw the two brothers and their consorts a look of deep satisfaction came into her face.

"Where will we go tonight, darling?" Loki whispered in her ear as they were handed plates of pastries in the shapes of longboats, filled with sauces of different colors. "Your chamber? My former rooms, which you have not seen yet? Some entirely different wing of the palace?"

"Hm." Natasha considered. "If it's not too painful for you, I'd really love to get back to our little nest from last night. I still have a few presents to open as I recall."

His response was to lift her hand to his lips and kiss each fingertip in turn. "Very well. We can settle in together there for the evening as soon as I can steal you away, and I will tell you the story of the Witch in Ironwood Forest. It is a fascinating tale. Vili recounted it to me and Thor when we were boys…"

She watched him speak, his hands moving to help him express his thoughts. His face, as always, reflected each passing idea in his mind. He leaned close to her, touching her shoulder to make his point, and his face looked so young and so handsome she grinned suddenly with pure happiness. He stopped abruptly and gazed at her, open-mouthed.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I have no idea. I was going on about something which seemed very important at the time, but when you gave me such a lovely smile just now it drove my wits clean out of my head." He kissed her hand again, and whispered, "Are you really so happy?"

She felt her eyes crinkle with joy as she nodded. "Loki, I have never been happier in all my life."

* * *

Dancing the Hringr with Loki was quite different from being whirled around by Volstagg. Each time they met in the figure of the dance he gave her a hidden caress, whispered a shocking suggestion in her ear, licked her fingertips or her neck. By the time the music finished Natasha knew she was blushing. Loki commented on it as he escorted her to the side of the room. "Your cheeks bloom like roses, my love. I doubt the gardens of the palace have anything so fair among all the orchard beds and golden fountains."

Instantly she picked up on his line of flirtation. "Cheeks and beds? For shame, sir. No wonder roses bloom when you fertilize your words so." It was too easy to fall into the rhythm of Asgardian speech; what would Clint say if he heard her now speaking like a Shakespearian maiden?

Loki's eyes lit up with another of his easy laughs. "To use a Midgard phrase, are you calling me out with bullsh-?"

His words were cut off. The door to the ballroom opened, and Heimdall entered. Instantly the musicians stopped playing, and all conversation ceased.

Sif stepped forward. "Well, brother? Why are you here – what message have you?"

Loki drew in a long breath like a death rattle. "No," he whispered, and with both arms he drew Natasha closer.

Heimdall pointed across the room to the Black Widow. "She must return to Midgard now," he stated. As soon as the words were spoken, Loki's arms wound around Natasha's waist to hold her close to his side.

The queen stepped forward, a line slicing her forehead with worry. "This very moment? Can we not finish the dance, allow her to stay until matins?"

The god shook his head. "Nay, Queen Frigga. It was very clear – she must return as she stands without tarry."

Volstagg threw the glass he held on the floor, where it shattered with a loud crash. "If she needs a champion, the Warriors Three shall stand for Lady Natasha at a moment's notice."

Sif joined him. "She proved her mettle today on the jousting fields. I would request her to return to us as soon as she is able to continue her training as a knight."

"And I stand for her as well," Thor said. "If she needs an escort, Jane and I will attend her."

"Absolutely," Jane agreed. "I need to return in any case, and now is as good a time as any."

"Heimdall," Frigga insisted, "you are to return Lady Natasha to us the instant she requests it on Midgard. One word from her, and you whisk her back to us in Asgard. Do you understand?"

The huge guard bowed. "Aye, my Queen."


	10. Return to Midgard

Loki's face was pale, and his lips tightened as Heimdall left. "It seems you already have a host of champions," he frothed in a throbbing tone that cut the air with its implied danger. "Obviously you have no need of me."

"Aha, I see we are in for your moment of bad temper, as usual – I only expected as much. Please do not break anything too valuable this time." Natasha raised her chin; she refused to be intimidated by his anger.

He cut her off with another bitter retort. "I may not even escort you to the remains of the Bifrost! Instead I must watch you leave me here like a chained goat about to be sacrificed to a dragon…"

"And there you have it - yet another reason for you to guard your behaviour. If you win your freedom, we can walk together outside, explore all of Asgard if we wish. Go hunting, visit the other realms…I told you I wanted no other instructor. You, in this as in everything, are my first choice."

He dropped his hands from her waist to seize her arms in a painful grip. "My behaviour! What part does that play in all this? You are about to leave me - that is the beginning and end of it."

"You are hurting me," she said in a low voice.

Instantly he let go and stepped away. "My apologies, madam."

"I see." She gazed at him for a moment without blinking. "I would normally coax you out of your current mood, but at the moment I haven't got time." Stepping back, she whirled away from him and followed Heimdall to the door.

There she hesitated and looked over one shoulder. Loki dropped his face into one hand; he looked completely alone even in the centre of the crowded, glittering room. Her heart trembled at the sight. Not caring about the throng surrounding them she ran to his side, flung her arms around his neck, and pressed her cheek to his. "I will return the instant I can. You heard Frigga, she gave instructions to Heimdall to – mmmmf!"

Ignoring what else she had to say, Loki seized her and kissed her so passionately she was bent backwards under the force of his lips. Just as suddenly, he released her and pushed her away from him. "There, leave me quickly while I have the strength to bear it."

It was good advice. If she looked at him any longer she would disobey the summons and fly to his rooms instead. With a quick pace, she followed Heimdall out of the palace.

* * *

Although Thor and Jane accompanied her to the ruined Bifrost now powered by the Tesseract, Natasha arrived in Midgard alone. Heimdall told her before he sent her out she would appear in the very spot where she was needed most. It was surprising, therefore, to show up not in Nick's office, therefore, but inside her own apartment seated on the couch.

_Okay, what the hell?_  Natasha looked around her in dismay. If Heimdall had ruined her 'Get Laid by Loki Until Falling Into a Coma' plans for the evening simply to hint she needed to vacuum and dust her apartment, she would spend the next bout of target practice on his head.

The laptop sat on the coffee table in front of her. Out of curiosity Natasha flipped it open to check her email; immediately she saw seventeen messages from Clint, ten from Anzhela, as well as an email from the Petrovitch Foundation with the dire title 'For Ms Romanova's Eyes Only – Open at Once'.

She started with the latest one from Clint.  _Jeez, Nat,_  he wrote,  _where the hell are you hiding out these days? Anzhela and I have been going crazy trying to find you. She thinks you hate her, and I think you are doing that subtract yourself from the world thing you always do when stuff gets rough. Please call or at least send me an email…_

The others all said just about the same thing. Natasha quickly typed her response:  _Sorry, Clint. Been away for a few days. Tell Anzhela I don't hate her. My phone is gone, so you'll have to contact me via email for a bit._

The communiqué from the Foundation was much longer and came from the head of the board. The woman outlined a long list of problems at the group, all leading to possible shut-down of the agency.  _Without a proper CEO or manager,_  the woman wrote,  _it is difficult to fully function and thus fulfillment of the charity's goals is impossible; already the situation has compromised the safety of several women in Lithuania…_

Natasha swore and prepared to shut her laptop, but a loud ping pronounced another email from Clint.  _Will you meet me somewhere_ _now_ _?_ he wrote. _And is it okay if Anzhela tags along? I really think the three of us need to talk._

"Damn it to hell and back!" Natasha shouted. She wanted to tell Clint to kiss her ass and throw her laptop out of the window. Something stopped her, however: she suspected she might be acting just like Loki himself in one of his evil moods.

Furthermore, if Heimdall plopped her into the middle of the Clint / Anzhela mess, obviously she had to confront it head on.

Natasha sent Clint another message telling him to bring Anzhela to the park in the morning where she had first met Jane. That would give her time to change out of her Renaissance Faire get-up and grab a few hours sleep, but not enough to chicken out of showing up.

Next she wrote a long response to the Petrovitch board member, apologizing for the late reply and promising to renew her search for a proper CEO. She already had five employment search companies scouting for talent, but none of them had the right candidate. Natasha sighed for Loki's computer skills; she knew he would have a dozen possibilities lined up for her within a few hours. Without his expertise, she would have to stay in Midgard for at a few weeks to get the entire cluster under control.  _That should go over well,_  she thought.  _Please, Mischief, don't destroy too many realms before I get back._

Mulling that problem over, she sent a quick message to Jane with an attached letter for Thor to give to his brother when he returned.  _Loki,_  Natasha wrote,  _I meant what I said to you tonight. My feelings remain the same. Unfortunately, I have a few things to settle here, and the moment it is all under control I will return to you_. She added her name and sent it off, hoping he would read between the lines and realize she couldn't send him a more passionate note by way of Jane and Thor.

There seemed to be nothing else for her to do. At a loose end, Natasha found herself digging for her old bottle of vodka in the freezer to down a few shots before she climbed into bed and tried to sleep.

* * *

In the park, Clint and Anzhela sat together on the bench where Jane had waited. As Natasha approached, Anzhela jumped up and moved away from the archer, as though she felt guilty for being close to him.

"Hey!" the girl yelled, waving both arms over her head. "Hey! Over here!"

"I see you," Natasha muttered. "And hear you. So does all of Manhattan." She walked up to them and immediately Anzhela launched into a long explanation.

"First, I want you to know this whole thing is totally my fault. Clint is so, so, so, so innocent. You should be PO'ed at me, not him – he tried to  _stop_  me from jumping his bones, but would I listen? Nope. No, I would not. Because I'm a dumb, dumb dork. I guess my only excuse is I was so scared at the time, and I just needed someone to hold onto, and blah blah blah. But I'm so sorry I messed up everything between you and me – it was the last thing I meant to do. I had the best intentions of becoming your friend, and…"

Natasha held up one hand to stem the flood of words. "Anzhela," she begged. " _Anzhela._  Listen to me!"

The girl stopped. "Okay." Clint let loose a chuckle but sobered as soon as Natasha shot him a look.

"I need to say something to Clint first," Natasha insisted. "Buddy, I apologize for how I acted the last time we saw each other. I was out of line, and rude, and off my head. Will you forgive me?"

He laughed, stood up, and held out his arms. "Are you kidding? I deserved every drop of beer in my tidy whities."

Natasha let him give her a bear hug before she faced Anzhela. "I need to say sorry to you as well. You were trying to contact me and create a relationship between us, I guess. And as usual, I had no idea how to do that. As far as the current situation – let's just put it all behind us. There's nothing we can do about it now. What's done is done, right?"

The girl flung her arms around Natasha, still babbling. "Don't make me cry! I don't deserve this. I really wish you would punch me in my face or something."

"Why don't we all just sit down," Natasha suggested. "Let's just talk about your plans. Are you going to have the – you know – the thing?"

"The baby?" Anzhela gave Clint a sideways glance. "Yes. I'll work my butt off to raise the kid. I know I seem pretty scatter-brained, but I do have some smarts when it counts. If only…"

"Anzhela's job is in Philadelphia," Clint interrupted. "I want to stick by her and the kid, be part of the baby's life, but it's hard if I'm working here and she's in another city."

"Your job?" Natasha turned to Anzhela.

"Oh, yeah. I got this really sweet gig at Temple managing all the sports promos, but I have to be onsite. And Clint has to be onsite  _here_ , obviously, so it's rough."

"Yeah, so we have to figure it all out," he added. As he sat back and rubbed both hands over his face, Anzhela snuck a glance at him from under her lashes. Natasha intercepted it and realized the girl had real feelings for her partner – her former partner. What right had she to interfere with their lives, especially since she herself was busy falling into bed with the god of mischief?

Feeling like an interloper, she rose to her feet. "I really, really wish you both the best of luck. You've got a good guy there," she added to Anzhela.

Clint blushed and made some embarrassed noises, but Anzhela nodded her head with her usual enthusiasm. "I know, right? He's the best. A lot of dudes would tell me to get lost or just send a couple checks, but …"

"Okay, changing the subject." His face was the color of a Solo cup. "Nat, you sure you gotta go? Can't we buy you breakfast or something?"

"I really have to take care of some business." Natasha was thinking of the Petrovitch Foundation.

"I'm so glad we hashed all this out, though." Anzhela jumped up and wrapped her arms around Natasha to give her a long, close hug. Apparently pregnancy wasn't making her cranky or sapping her energy yet.

Managing to detach herself, Natasha left the park and headed uptown. She thought she might look for a few gifts for Loki to make him happier about their forced situation.  _But what do you buy a demigod who can conjure up anything he wants?_  she mused. Sitting for a glamour shot wasn't her style, and slippers or a wallet didn't seem appropriate either.

Just as she was about to give up and head back to her apartment, Natasha passed the kind of second-hand bookstore she loved – one with an old bow window and a cat asleep among the stacks in the sunshine. On an impulse she entered, sniffed the heady fragrance of old parchment and ink, and plunged into the shelves of novels and old comic books.

A few hours later she emerged with a copy of Gods Behaving Badly, a slim volume of edgy poetry by S. Whittaker, and a first edition of The Railway Children. She thought its humor might appeal to Loki, as well as the theme of imprisonment and its effects on others. Certainly the title of the first book would make him laugh, and she wanted to hear his caramel voice read her a few of the poems. Flushed with success she headed home, stopping to pick up a large coffee and a sandwich for a late lunch.

The glow faded as she wondered about her "mission," if one could call it that. What had she accomplished, exactly, besides gift shopping for her mischievous lover? Nick was nowhere to be found. The Petrovitch Foundation was still a mess. She had resolved things somewhat with Clint and Anzhela, but that was hardly worth…

She froze, and a man holding a small child by the hand ran straight into her. "Watch it, lady!" the guy yelled, pulling the kid away from her with a venomous glare.

Natasha gave him the finger absent-mindedly. She had just come up with an idea, one so obvious she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her earlier. If all went well, she could solve her problems and return to Asgard in a day or two at the latest, as long as Fury didn't call her in for a case first, of course.

It also meant she could be back in Loki's bed in less than forty-eight hours. Natasha abandoned the idea of walking home and hailed a cab. "Stark Tower," she told the driver. "I'll double the tip if you can get me there in ten minutes."


	11. The Hunt

Thor entered Loki's chambers. Although his brother had been granted access to the entire palace, Frigga told her eldest son his brother insisted in staying where he had been imprisoned. "Ever since the mortals returned to Midgard he refuses to come out for food or conversation, Thor. Will you visit him?" she begged.

There was something Thor wanted to discuss with Loki in any case, so he willingly agreed – given one condition. It had led to a long argument with the All-Father, but after a great deal of bluster on Odin's end and promises from Thor on the other, he had secured what he wanted.

Loki was on the balcony of his bedroom with his back turned to the door. A symphony of mice played sad little tunes on the mantel, and a parade of dismal images wafted into the air from the hands of the young prince: a man drowning among waterlilies, tears rolling down the face of a beautiful maiden, a herd of horses thundering over a cliff. "Go away," he said as soon as Thor entered.

"I bring a message from the Lady Natasha," Thor replied calmly.

With a wave of Loki's hand, the dream horses were rescued by the man in a waterlily crown, who then pressed kisses on the mournful beauty's face. "Where is it?"

"Here you are. It's quite short – she had to send it by the Nets called Inter." Thor handed over a folded piece of paper, and Loki tore it from his hand. Quickly he scanned it, and a tiny smile flickered over his lips.

"'Meant what I said', 'feelings remain the same' – I suppose it could be worse," Loki muttered. He realized Thor still stood there and pointed to the door. "You have delivered the message – now, leave me and be off to enjoy your Lady Jane's company."

"She remains in Midgard as well."

At that, Loki's eyes snapped to Thor's face. "Oh? And you exist without her – doing so quite well, I am certain - not sitting in your rooms, daydreaming about what you have lost?" He turned back to his balcony. "At least you can be with your friends. Go on adventures. Not fester in the Palace and go mad, wishing you could turn back time and tell her you loved her when you said goodbye instead of losing your fiendish temper as usual and push her away."

"I thought you and I could go on a hunt, as we used when we were stripling lads," Thor declared. "What say you, brother? It has been an age since I accompanied you on horseback, and you are one of the finest riders Asgard has ever seen. There was a sighting of one of Níðhöggr's brood a few weeks ago; several sheep disappeared nearby the place, as well as a maiden."

"Why do you even bother to ask? I am relegated to the palace." Loki's shoulders radiated gloom and disapproval.

"Aha!" Thor boomed. "I have won permission from the All-Father to allow your passage with me on the hunt for the dragon. If we can slay the foul worm and return its hide to the palace, imagine the feasting we should have! And it would be good to ride with you, as we once did. I know much has happened between us since we were young together, but why should we not steal an afternoon for some glorious pursuit?"

Loki turned and regarded him through slitted eyes. "I suppose it would pass a few hours." Sweeping past Thor, he conjured up riding gear for himself complete with high boots and a closely fitted coat.

Thor grinned to himself. He knew if he voiced some of his triumph, however, Loki would scuttle back into hiding like a crab and the enterprise would be lost.

* * *

Loki had to admit, if only to himself, it was good to be back in the saddle. Sleipnir tossed his head when Loki mounted, and the prince slapped the steed's neck in response. "Are you ready for adventure, my son?" the prince murmured. "I am certain you have been pent up for far too long, as have I…"

"Let us ride!" Thor bellowed. Without hesitation he dug his heels into Stormbringer's sides and galloped off, not bothering to see if Loki followed. The prince instantly leaned forward and Sleipnir, always so sensitive to his rider's moods, dashed after Thor and his mount.

The palace was quickly left behind as the brothers galloped side by side, first Thor in front, and then Loki as Sleipnir gained advantage. The god of thunder roared approval as Loki passed him; Thor had never been one to sulk when he was bested in a fair race.

At length he shouted for Loki to pull up and pointed to the forests bordering on the Sea of Marmora beyond the Plain of Ida. "Follow me," Thor cautioned, hastening to a narrow path that ran straight into the forest itself.

Loki rode cautiously, on high alert. The hidden dangers in the forest were not confined to beasts or villains; rumours of time-slips and hidden passages into other realms abounded in that part of the country. "Let us not end up in Hel today," he advised, but Thor made an exclamation.

"Look yonder!" He pointed at a small object, just visible from the path.

The prince jumped down from his saddle and strode to see what it was. Kneeling, he picked it up and showed the object to Thor – a large, silvery disc like a scale from a huge salmon. "'T'would seem we are getting close," he mused.

"Indeed! Ride on, brother – I have the craving for dragon hide!"

As soon as Loki remounted, Thor was away. Sleipnir dashed after Stormbringer, by instinct avoiding the undergrowth and heavy roots. Loki patted the glistening neck of his horse and murmured, "You are the finest steed in all of the Nine Realms, Sleipnir, and if all goes well I shall give you hot mash and mead in a silver bucket this night."

"Brother!" Thor shouted. There was a loud hiss, and Thor's mount jumped sideways as a long tail disappeared among the trees.

The god of thunder raced after the quarry, but Loki had a different idea. Whispering to Sleipnir, he urged the horse to cut through a hidden, dark part of the forest. The path he sought tangled reality back on itself, so he could appear in front of the small dragon and cut off its escape.

Sleipnir set up a long neigh as the path twisted in front of them; the next moment, Loki and his horse were confronted by the heavy head of the dragon, baring its teeth. It turned to escape, but Thor galloped up in time to attack it from behind.

"We have it now!" Thor shouted, just as the dragon made ready to let loose a long stream of fire. Quickly Loki charged and cut at its underbelly with his sword; the attack served to divert its attention from his brother.

However, the huge worm was now intent on him instead. Its oval pupils dilated as it slunk towards Loki, ready to strike.

He could see Thor through the mist surrounding the beast, preparing to go for its hindquarters. Before he could reach it, the dragon swept its tail out, pushing Thor off his feet.

Loki looked into the mouth of the dragon, knowing he had only one chance. With a long curse, he held up his sword and launched it into the open mouth, praying his blade would find its spot.

The dragon screamed in rage; the terrible sound made Sleipnir rear up and whinny with battle-lust. Its eyes glowed as it prepared to jump for Loki's throat…

There was a loud thunk, followed by a meaty, bloody gush. Loki's sword reappeared on the side of the beast, its point breaking through its skin from the belly. Its eyes grew dim, and with a long keening cry, it fell on one side and collapsed.

For a moment, nothing moved except for the creature in its death throes. Thor clutched his sword, prepared to finish it off, but the dragon stopped moving and lay utterly still.

At last the god of thunder let loose a long sigh of relief. "I do not mind telling you I thought you were dragon's meat for one moment!"

"And so did I," Loki confessed. "I was lucky in my throw."

"Nay! T'was the sweetest cast I have ever been privileged to see. Well done – indeed, well done!"

With a shaky laugh, Loki slid off his horse and inspected the beast. "'Twould appear it will take no more maidens, nor sheep."

"Indeed!" Thor looked about them; the wood lay in silence. "This place is unnaturally still as though beset by evil magicks. Let us return to the edge of the forest once we have secured our prize."

* * *

Leading their mounts, the two brothers climbed out of the trees. The double planets shone in the night sky, and the lights of the palace twinkled in the distance.

"Would you care to sit here for a time to allow our horses some rest?" Thor's voice was shy, as though he expected a curse or a blow as response.

"I suppose it would not kill me. In faith, 'tis good to be away from the palace." Loki dropped Sleipnir's reins and sat among the tufts of the plains, gazing up at the heavens.

Cautiously, Thor joined him. "That was like days of old, was it not?" He leaned back on one elbow.

Loki turned to look at him. "Do you remember our first hunt?"

"Bilgesnipe, was it not? Do you remember how Volstagg got stuck in the mire and had to be dragged out?"

"I can still hear his curses." Loki chuckled softly.

Thor tipped his head back and laughed. "Aye! And we roasted the hearts of the beasts over the flames of our fire and ate."

" _You_  ate. I waited to return to the palace for edible sustenance."

"Tell me, do you miss her?" Thor picked up a blade of grass and chewed on it with a nonchalant air.

"Do you miss the air you breathe when you are drowning or water if lost in a desert?" Loki snapped. "Natasha is the one person who seems to be able to make me behave like a rational being and who can make life bearable at the same time." He hesitated before adding, "At least, until now. This afternoon was – it was good. Thank you for securing my measure of freedom so I could accompany you."

"By the ravens of Yggdrasil! She has indeed changed you, brother."

"I know it." Loki felt his lips tighten. "Most would say it should have happened long ago."

"Perhaps it all occurs at certain times for a reason…"

"And tell  _me_ , Thor, while we speak of matters of the heart," Loki interrupted. "Do you ever think on Jane's mortality? And does it cut you like a knife?" Hearing Thor's sharp intake of breath, he pressed on ruthlessly, "For  _that_  is what I have been considering, every moment ever since Natasha left me. We has so few years left to spend together, and once she is gone forever there will be an end of my rationality – my sanity."

"It is even worse for me," Thor admitted. "My lady's years are numbered far fewer than those of the Lady Natasha and there is naught I can do to keep her by my side. With Mjolnir in my hand I can wage huge storms or fight entire armies, but I cannot hold the one I love for as long as we both should wish it."

"Would you promise me something?"

"Of course." Thor sat up. "What is it?"

The young prince flung his head back to gaze at the stars dreamily. "When Natasha draws her last breath, will you promise to take my life? Behead me with your hammer and burn my remains so there is no return, not even from Hel?"

Thor drew in a deep breath and jumped to his feet. "Do not talk so!" he thundered. "I could never – you must not – we must not even speak on't!"

"Behold." Loki climbed to his feet and looked across the plains to the lights of the palace. "See out there? The lovely castle, filled with those who do not know we watch them from a distance. I am frightened of what I might do to them and to the realm of Asgard if she is not near to temper my violent inclinations. You of all people know what I am capable of in my worst moments."

"Perhaps one day we can find a solution. But at the moment, let us enjoy each moment with our chosen ladies, fleeting as it is."

Loki nodded. "For a hulking brute, 'tis not badly put. I agree – for the moment." He glanced at the hide of the dragon, bundled onto Sleipnir's back. "Perhaps the All-Father would like a cape made of dragon-skin," he commented slyly.

Thor turned to him with sudden laughter. "Loki," he asked, "what are you plotting now?"

"Naught but a gift. It has come to my attention that at times soft words gain best reward rather than harsh deeds."

"If you have come to see that for truth, then my only conclusion is the Lady Natasha is a sorceress beyond the power of the Valkyries themselves," Thor vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Starbooks13 emlawrence, sandram1, and unbentglass as well as those who left Kudos for the lovely messages. You all inspire me, every day, to spin my little stories.


	12. Resignation

Natasha slept soundly, her sleep interrupted by neither nightmares nor seduction. Perhaps her decision regarding Anzhela had something to do with it – at last she felt at peace with that portion of her life. When late sunlight struggled into her windows, she rose and showered, brushed her teeth, got dressed into her own Black Widow catsuit and skyped Clint.

He picked up on the first ring. "Nat!" Her former partner wore his usual pleased smile and uncomplicated expression. "What's my favorite assassin up to?"

"Actually, I have an idea to run past you and a favour to ask. As usual. Isn't that what I do – ask you favours?"

"And I usually say Yes." He grinned.

"You  _always_ say Yes. Will you tell Nick I'm going to resign?"

"Resign?" There was a crash as though he had just knocked something over, and he cursed. "Damn, there goes my coffee. Say what again?"

"I've made my decision," Natasha warned.

"Well, where are you going to go?"

"Asgard."

Over the line there came a long silence. "Nat, what the hell are you thinking?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. All I can tell you is it feels right. For the first time in eighty years, something feels – shit, I don't want to get all in touch with my emotions, but I feel like I know where I'm going. Does that make sense …No, forget I asked that. I know it doesn't make any sense at all."

He sat up and cleared his throat. "Actually I sort of get it, kind of. I just wish it wasn't with – you know."

"I'll take care of myself. And Jane Foster is there too – the scientist."

"Oh."

Natasha took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk about Anzhela, if you have a minute."

A certain wary look came over his face. "Okayyy."

"Clint, the way you're talking makes me suspect she's there right now at - let's see now - ten in the morning." Natasha tried to make her voice stern, but she knew she sounded amused.

"Yeah. I won't lie to you." His eyes shifted to the corner of the room.

"No, it's fine. I've accepted it as a good thing. However, I think I might have a job for her, one she can do at home if she's interested. It'll mean a bit of travel, but you can help out with …"

The screen blurred and the background tilted as if someone had just grabbed the computer. "Aunt Natasha!" Anzhela was dressed in an old college tee, too big for her. It hung down to her knees; probably it belonged to Clint. "What are you talking about?"

"Could you maybe not call me 'Aunt' anymore?" Natasha blinked. "How about just Natasha? We're the same age, sort of. Listen, I need someone to manage a foundation I was given. Uh, presented. Well – it's a long story. Anyhow, it's meaningful work, helping victims of sex trade, but you'll have a steep learning curve. I thought of you since you need something to allow you to work from home."

"Oh! My! Gosh!" The girl jumped up, twirled around, and sat back in front of the screen. Clint's grinning face appeared from the side, giving a thumb's up. "Okay, sorry. I'm listening."

"I'll send you all the details, but you'd be an answer to a prayer. And you can have my apartment too, if you like, since I won't be here for a while. Interested?"

"She's interested," Clint said, "if you can call having a giggle-slash-jitter attack interested. Nat, this is huge for her – and for me too. I owe you big."

"No, I owe  _you_ big. Always." She took a deep breath, ready to sever the final tie she had with Midgard. "Tell Fury I'm always available if he really needs me. Could you do that?"

Clint nodded, and Anzhela crowded back into the screen. The voluble girl threw kisses at the computer before Skype timed out.

Alone again, Natasha sat back and looked around her flat, wondering if she would miss the place. The walls were barren of photos or knickknacks, anything to make it a home. She originally liked it like that – used to anonymous hotel rooms, she tried to create the same atmosphere in her apartment. But now she missed the riot of color in Loki's bedroom – the flowers, the mirrors, the shelves of books, his little orchestra of mice.

She wrote a long report for Petrovitch, putting forth Anzhela's name as CEO candidate and adding Clint's contact info with a request to forward all foundation background there. Once that was done, she typed a message to Jane to let her know she was going to contact Heimdall and head back to the palace. She had the idea her Midgard mission was complete.

Fetching the miniature portrait Loki had sent her, Natasha realized there was nothing else she wanted from her apartment. It was time to return home.

* * *

When she reappeared at the edge of the palace grounds, she saw a long parade of horses heading towards the castle. Still in her catsuit, she received quite a few curious glances from passing children and elderly women before she made it into the gardens surrounding the palace. Long streams of late sunshine filtered through the leaves of the massive trees, and Natasha took a long sniff of the pure air. It struck her once more how lovely Asgard was. Along the paths, the banks of old roses and lavender lay in silence surrounded by a darting crowd of white butterflies and drowsy bees. From far away, a lute played accompanied by a maiden's husky voice. Even further, there was the clash of metal, as though a few knights were engaged in swordplay.

Tentatively, Natasha went to the imposing portal that was the main entrance to the palace. As she approached, the string of riders came closer. Thor led the parade, a beaming smile on his face. Next to him rode none other than Loki, his black hair tossed back from his face and an answering grin on his lips.

Natasha stopped. She hadn't expected to find him so happy, so relaxed. It suddenly occurred to her Prince Loki had an entirely separate life, one she knew nothing about. Had she just made a colossal mistake in returning?

As she wavered, a hand clapped onto her shoulder. "Ha!" someone said in her ear. "You could not stay away for long, it seems. Ready to continue your punishment?" Sif grinned at Natasha within the shadows of the columns at the palace gates.

With a surge of relief, Natasha nodded. "I must be a sucker. Actually, I look forward to taking up my sword again."

Sif flicked her eyes over Natasha's attire. "Is this armour?"

"It's what I wear when I'm on a case – being an assassin, I mean. It's bulletproof and comfortable enough to allow me to climb up walls, jump over rooftops, vault as far as I need – although I doubt it's swordproof."

"Best stick to your fish scales when we train then." Sif's grin widened. "Mayhap you will show me some of your moves and your weapons. For example…" Curiously she fingered one of the disks on Natasha's belt.

"Be careful," Natasha warned. "That's the Widow's Kiss – if it's activated, it will stun an entire room filled with people."

"Baldur's buttocks! I should dearly like to have a few of those at my disposal."

"Hm." Natasha considered. "I can't transport too much cargo between the realms, but I'll give you this disk after my next lesson, as long as you promise to listen closely to how to use it."

Sif grinned again. "'Tis a good bargain – swordplay for …" Her words were cut off as a huge red-headed missile crashed into Natasha and enveloped her and Sif with arms the size of tree trunks.

"Lady Natasha!" Volstagg roared. "Thou hast returned at last, bringing my lost heart with thee! Wilt come to t'tavern and quaff mead with us Warriors this night?"

"She probably must away," Sif said to him out of the side of her mouth. "'T'would be my guess someone has plans for her."

"Ah. Could be thou hast the truth of it. Still, the sight of thy scarlet curls makes me whole again, Lady." Unfazed, he burst into loud laughter, and Natasha couldn't help smiling. The huge Viking was like a cheeky five-year old, unrepentant in his admiration for her.

"I do need to see the queen if she has time, and I suppose I should get into Asgard gear." Natasha glanced at her catsuit.

"Nay, this attire suits thee." Volstagg's glance was filled with bawdy intention.

"That is enough out of you, loverboy." Sif grasped his collar with one hand. "Off with you, to pay the hacksilver you owe me for besting your horse." She bore him off, ignoring his protests.

As their voices faded away Natasha glanced around her, feeling a bit unsettled. The thought that she was there alone without Jane by her side was a bit depressing. Slowly she trailed inside to the library to begin the intricate path to her own chamber.

_I'll see what happens tonight,_  she thought as she went up the stairway on the right, up three and down two.  _If I have to return, then I just have to make the best of it._  She touched the panel depicting Urd's well, and the hidden door swung open.  _Not that I wanted Loki to be miserable, but to see him so happy and so unaware of my presence…!_

At the door to her chamber she hesitated. What if her room had been given to someone else – perhaps the princess Loki had danced with days ago? "Stop it," she said to herself and stepped inside.

The room lay in stillness, much as she had left it. Her sword was still on a small table, lying on its oiled cloth. The clothes Loki conjured up for her were in the closet, and the bath in the adjoining room was as large as ever.

But the rooms were also filled with flowers – branches and billows of sakura blossoms, spilling sweet fragrance into the chamber. "Oh!" Natasha put both hands up to her face. Slowly she went and touched one of the flowers, sniffed its perfume.

A sudden suspicion overtook her, and she whirled around with her heart in her throat. Loki stood in the doorway watching her, hands on his hips, dimples in his cheeks. Natasha felt her lips turn up. "There aren't many people who can sneak up on me," she quipped.

"Do you like it?" He gestured to the blossoms, almost shyly. "These always make me think of you. We do not grow them in Asgard so I had to conjure them up with magic, but they smell like the real flowers."

"I do, very much." She cleared her throat. "Actually, I saw you outside earlier on horseback."

"Did you?" The dimple disappeared, and a frown appeared between his brows. "Why did you not speak to me?"

"I didn't want to interrupt. Are you …"

He made an impatient movement with one arm. "I am granted liberty beyond the palace walls. A recent gift from me and my brother to the All-Father secured a more liberal measure of freedom." His frown increased. "But why do we speak together so formally, Natasha? It is as though we have not seen each other in months."

Her heart began to quiver. "I - I brought you a few gifts. Would you like to see them?"

The smile reappeared, like a sun from behind a bank of dark clouds. "It would certainly please me greatly. But let us fly away to our own nest, little bird."

She opened her mouth to respond, but he had already firmly grasped her waist and flung one of his little magic lights into the air. When she blinked, they were on the balcony of his bedroom, looking out onto the small garden attached to the suite. Natasha exclaimed with pleasure and leaned her elbows on the railing. "Do you know, I missed this view? I have lived in so many locations – Russia, Europe, Stark Tower – but this is the first place where I feel a sense of true homecoming."

Loki stood very close and bound her to his side with his arm. "Now you have already given me a gift beyond measure," he said, looking down into her face with his startling green eyes.

"I brought you something you can hold as well." She removed the small pack from her back and took out the volumes from the old bookstore. He laughed when he saw the title of the first, raised his brows at The Railway Children, and exclaimed at the poems.

"Books! Alas, you already know my weakness. The queen used to say if I was not present at dinner, I was sure to be in the library, hidden in a window seat with nose in between the dusty pages of a story."

"Actually, I have another present." She reached for his hand, and he put the books down to face her.

"Well?" Loki prompted her gently. "I suppose this is the crux of it. What are you so hesitant to say to me? Have it out at once, but I warn you…"

"Calm down, Mischief. Don't get all overheated and bad-tempered." Natasha swallowed. "It's only if we both decide it's okay, but I resigned my job in Midgard."

"Resigned!" One impetuous tug on her hands brought her into his arms, where he devoured her face with his keen, searching gaze. "What do you mean by that, exactly? Explain this to me."

"I no longer work for SHIELD. Unless you object, I thought to relocate. That is, make my home in Asgard." He said nothing, and desperation made her burst out, "I don't  _have_ to do it! Don't worry, I won't interfere or force myself on you…"

"By the Nine realms of Yggdrasil…" Loki made one of his sudden movements and captured her lips with his. Again and again he kissed her, until she thought her knees would give out. With another quick gesture, he held her at arms' length to look at her intently once more. "Do you mean this, what you say? That you will stay with me in Asgard, here with me for as long as…"

"I thought I could learn to be a knight. You know, a warrior. Sif has agreed to continue teaching me how to fight with a sword, and I can tell the queen I will do what I can to defend the realm. No offense, but it seems riddled with hidden passageways and bolt-holes throughout."

He grinned. "None should know it better than I. But as it happens, I have a different scheme in mind… although we will not speak of it now."

"No?" She cocked her head.

"No. And I have missed seeing you thus, in your assassin's clothes. By the gods, darling, I have missed you so…!" His hand captured the back of her neck, and he pulled her in for more kisses. Forcefully his tongue and teeth claimed hers, and she found she was panting, pulling him towards her with one fist in his collar and another in his black hair, as his hands roamed up and down the outline of her figure.

She wound her arms tightly around his neck, felt the powerful muscles of his back tense as she leaned back to look up at him with half-closed eyes. "Do you remember the dream when you changed my catsuit to fit your desires?"

Loki's lips parted, baring his teeth in a snarl as he jerked her hips towards his forcefully. "You naughty little wench!" The next moment she was up in his arms, being carried to the large bed. He tossed her into the center of it and moved one hand over her body, leaving a shower of sparks in his wake. Instantly the black material covering her chest and sex disappeared, with the rest of the suit intact. Just as suddenly he lunged for her, covering her mouth with his and cupping one breast. "Is this what you wanted, darling?" he gasped. "Gods, you always get me so in a froth, just the sight of your white skin framed in your black assassin's clothes slays me, I could die here and now just looking at you…"

She covered his mouth with one hand to stop him talking for one second. "Where is your helmet?" she demanded.

Loki caused the bright, horned helmet to appear on his head. "Enough demands," he insisted between his teeth. "Now you shall pleasure me, and I shall pleasure you, just as I wanted when we were in Stark Tower together. Do you remember? I told you then I would have you in my bed, and behold the proof of my success. I always do what I want." He smirked in triumph.

"So I see, but who is to say it wasn't what _I_  wanted all along? Perhaps  _you_ were the one who was played and the victory is mine… ooh, that's very nice when you bite my neck like that, it's like you're a vampire about to drain my blood, your teeth are heaven."

Natasha ran her fingers up the horns of his helmet, and Loki cried out as she tickled the ends, licked the space between them. "Sweet merciful…! Valhalla, I never felt anything like that before, how did I ever exist without you?" He pressed her back to the pillows and swept his tongue to the cleft between her legs, pausing to suckle each fold of pulsating flesh.

Languidly she pressed her legs against his horns. "Did you know I can choke a man to his death with my thighs, Loki? How does it feel to kneel between them, knowing I could take your breath in any instant…"

At that he reared up with a maddened, desperate glitter in his eyes. "Remove my breeches now, I have to be inside you this instant. Hurry – unbuckle them quicker, darling. How  _dare_ you leave my side for more than a night! I shall have to punish you for that, it just so happens I have sweet discipline for you by way of a long birch rod, and here it comes…"

She gasped and rose to meet him as he slipped into her, every delicious inch. It was ecstasy to feel his hardness sheathed in her. Carefully she turned and licked one horn, and he groaned. "Do not make me spend too fast," he begged. "I need to be inside your sweet quim all night." Loki pushed up on one arm and looked down at her, his hair curling out from under the edge of his helmet. "Would that please you?"

"You already know it would. Put him inside me again, just a little bit – Oh! - and now all of it… I missed your cock, so much, you just don't know, and she missed him too, feel how wet she gushes for you, Loki. No one but you."

"Stop. Don't move." They both froze, suspended at the very pinnacle of orgasmic delight. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel his stroke within her. At last he pushed inside her, so slowly she groaned with desire. The sensation was tantalizing; every orifice fluttered with impending joy. Even her lips trembled.

His breath on her face came in short bursts, as though he were trying to hold back. "So soft, so sweet, and such a deadly killer at the same time," Loki whispered. "How could I  _not_  fall in love with you? There was no other choice. You drive men to their knees, and now you have a god on his knees to worship your beauty and your intelligence."

"I missed you," she replied, swiveling her hips to feel his length against all the hidden mysteries inside her. "Your voice, your strength, your unguarded emotions, your wits, your mischief. I want you to make love to me every moment you can to make up for our time apart. I want you every way possible."

"Oh, darling, it is so close," Loki moaned against her neck. "It is too much, you are just too exciting – are you going to…?"

"Yes!" she screamed, arching up into him. He thrust into her, driving himself in further with an impossible rhythm until they both exploded, shouting each other's names amid words of love.

Shuddering, he collapsed on top of her. When she could move, she tugged at one horn. "This can't be very comfortable," she whispered.

With a dark chuckle, he removed the helmet and tossed it to the end of the bed. Still inside her, he snapped his fingers so her uniform disappeared and they were both naked. "Now, it is just you and I again," he whispered.

"Hm. What shall we ever do next?" Natasha panted.

"Darling." Loki's tongue circled her ear and touched her neck, where the blood throbbed under her skin. "Natasha, my own dangerous assassin, my lovely girl, we have only just begun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to sandram1 and starbooks13 for the wonderful comments, as well as the kudos. I send Loki kisses to you all.


	13. Quicksilver

Slowly the days fell into a routine. Natasha spent her afternoons in bouts of sword fighting and armour training with Sif and her warrior companions; as soon as she was finished Loki met her at the stables to teach her how to ride. When she had a few spare hours she darted to the library in his rooms to study Old Norse or the history and lore of Asgard. If there was no banquet or dance in the large hall she ate with the prince in their dining room, and after they dined he read aloud to her or they played Hnefatafl on the tiny balcony. As the moons rose in the starry sky, he bore her to the large bed, making love to her again and again until they fell asleep with their legs tangled amid the covers.

Loki's virility, so legendary in folklore, proved to be even more sensitive in real life. If she passed him in the arched hallways of the palace or if her hand brushed his under the table, if their eyes met across a dance floor or if she made him laugh, instantly a tender, longing expression filled his eyes. The next thing she knew, Loki would take her to their tiny suite of rooms for long, drugged hours of deliciously sensual lovemaking, complete with his constant flow of dangerous charm and infectious laughter.

Jane returned to Asgard with Thor at her side, both luminous with happiness. A huge party was thrown in their honour, and during the bards' lays and speeches Loki's fingers kept roaming Natasha's thighs, searching for hidden spots only he knew. When the company went in to dance a loud Hringr, he flirted with her so outrageously that one scandalized mama bore her daughters away with a furious huff.

Collapsing with laughter, Loki pulled Natasha into a nearby solarium for a hearty kissing. After making each other breathless with their tongues and teeth, he had his way with her behind an imposing column, lifting her skirts with impetuous hands to discover the saucy stockings and garters she had worn for his eyes alone.

When they returned to the room they shared he slowly stripped her of her gown, poured perfumed oil on her back, and massaged her muscles until she was purring. After a few more rounds of what he called 'loveplay' the oil in the bottle was nearly gone.

In the morning, Natasha awoke with a wonderfully secure, warm feeling. She lay in Loki's arms, eyes still closed, luxuriating next to his skin. There were several things she wanted to do that day: more practice with Sif, another lesson on horseback, and there was an interesting manuscript on runic magic she and Loki had found inside a hidden room of the palace. It lay on the desk in their bedroom, tempting her to come and read it.

She knew, however, as soon as she moved Loki would wake and demand kisses and a thorough round of lovemaking before they went anywhere. Perhaps she could sneak off and start in on the manuscript, or at least get bathed and dressed?

Cautiously she fluttered one eyelid to see if Loki still slept. To her dismay, he was already awake with one eye peering back into hers.

Her gruff chuckle burst from her throat. "Loki! It's too bad of you. I was hoping I could…"

Without waiting to hear the rest, Loki jumped up and seated himself on top of her. Instantly he started to tickle her sides and her neck mercilessly. She tried to swat him away, but he evaded her hands, and finally her laugh rang out – a true belly laugh, echoing throughout the room.

His head tossed back with an answering shout; quickly he was so eclipsed he fell off her among the pillows. Shaking with mirth, they lay side by side, trying to speak and only able to snort.

"You devil!" Natasha wiped her eyes and chuckled again. "I can't remember the last time I laughed like that – if I  _ever_  did."

He rolled over and lazily put his arm around her waist with a wicked light in his eyes. "I love the sound of you losing all control. It makes me laugh as well."

" _Everything_ makes you laugh. Do you remember the shocked face on that matron after dinner last night when you kept licking me and biting my neck? I thought you were going to fall down the stairs of the dais."

That set him off again; the bed shook as his eyes closed and he gave way to another long outburst, pillowed on her stomach. It consumed him so thoroughly Natasha couldn't help joining in.

"Seriously, though," she said at last, catching her breath once more. "Were you aware the instant I woke up?"

"Of course, darling." Loki's dimples popped out as he regarded her. "Were you trying to escape me?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I was. I had a full day planned, but I knew if you awoke you wouldn't let me out of our room."

The deviltry in his face increased. "I see. Very well, in that case I propose a bargain. I will promise to  _not_ make love to you all day today, not until after we dine tonight and the moons rise."

"Really!" Natasha sat up, astonished. "Are you quite certain? That's a long time for you, remember."

"Quite certain. Of course," he added in a silken undertone, "I also promise to make the wait as difficult for you as possible."

"Aha! I see it all now. Very well, I accept – although I  _also_  claim the right to make things as difficult for you as they are for me."

Warily they eyed each other across the bed. She saw how the pulse beat under his skin; she knew he noticed her arousal as well. "I'm off to take a bath," she announced, sliding out of the sheets and flaunting her naked backside.

He sprang off the pillows and joined her by the huge tub already filled with steaming bubbles. "What a coincidence – I was about to take one as well. In we go - you first, darling – allow me to hand you into the water."

Natasha gave him a come-hither look. "Oops! Dropped the soap!"

"Would you like another towel, my love?" He got out and stretched one arm into a high cupboard, making certain she saw every inch of his long frame before climbing back into the water.

"Thank you. And may I scrub your shoulders for you, Mischief? Just lean back, like so – these will make good pillows for your head…"

* * *

The torture continued during breakfast. "These grapes are particularly delicious this morning," Natasha sighed, dangling them over her open mouth.

"Do you think so? I much prefer the figs. You split them thus and eat out the insides – what  _does_  it remind me of?" Loki licked his lips and gave her a wink.

"Sorry, didn't hear you. I'm too busy studying my scrolls." Natasha frowned studiously as she leaned over the treatise on runes, making certain her dress neckline drooped so he could get a good view down her front.

"Ooh, that does sound interesting. Allow me to see." He strode the length of the table to bend over her and blow softly into her ear and neck.

She had to concede round one.

* * *

Natasha began to seriously regret the entire affair during her sword-fighting lesson. Loki hovered near the jousting grounds to watch her every move. As she fought and drilled under Sif's iron-fisted tutelage he made it clear he was admiring her derriere and legs throughout, earning them both several sharp warnings from the warrior maiden. Once the class was complete, he insisted on helping her change out of her armour and into the new tightly fitted riding dress he presented to her, wrapped up in a huge box.

As he did up the buttons down her back, his lips found a spot at the side of her neck she could never resist. With an exclamation, she moved away from him, and his eyes creased in a villainous smile. "Ready to mount your horse?" he drawled.

"I am. Ready to help me mount?"

"I cannot wait," he breathed.

As they strolled to the stables, his hand hovered on her back in a protective gesture. Natasha's horse, a black mare named Annika, started a long whinny when she approached. With a caress on the horse's neck, Natasha fed Annika slices of apple from her gloved hands before Loki handed her up into the saddle, taking care his hands lingered on her hips and thighs.

Once mounted, she followed Sleipnir out into a trot. Loki rose and fell in the saddle, and as he rolled his eyes back at her she knew he was fully aware of the rhythm he mimicked on the horse's back.

Natasha bit her lip and squeezed her knees around Annika's sides. At length she passed Loki to smartly take a small hedge. As she stood in the saddle to complete the jump, she knew he could see her figure admirably; sure enough, he responded with a long whistle. "Forgo the race, darling," he shouted. "I already have the prize."

She tossed her head back and laughed, amazed at how easy it was. For so long she had been frozen, pent-up – unable to feel anything. In Asgard she had discovered life was for the taking, and she was going to enjoy it to the last grain before her sand slipped through the hourglass.

Loki drew up, pointing to a small copse of trees. "Let us stop here for a measure," he offered, and she nodded. Once the horses were settled, he helped her down from her saddle and held her by her waist. "I thought we could talk for a bit under the trees," he added.

"Yes, very well. I wanted to ask you about those runes in any case. Are there really so many meanings? And what do they depend on? For example,  _Othala_  can mean house or slavery both, so what makes the difference?"

He spread his coat and helped her to sit on it before joining her. "Reversal, most importantly. Merkstave runes are flipped to the opposing side, representing the dark half of the original. Also vital is the situation where the rune is used, although there an experienced enchanter can feel a certain order to the magic. It is in the air, like the expectation of a thunderstorm."

"That makes sense, although I'll need you to show me further with the other runes. And by the way, the scroll we found is damaged. I hoped you might help me repair and rewrite it."

"Yes, indeed!" His eyes lit with fascination. "I would truly enjoy such a task."

"I also thought we could present it to the queen, once it is complete."

"I suppose she would be wildly happy if we did so." Idly he traced the outline of her lips with one finger, and she edged away.

"You said we were going to  _talk,_  Loki."

"But I never promised not to kiss you. Just because I will not lie with you while the sun is overhead does not mean our lips must expire of loneliness. And all beings speak in tongues, is that not so? I wish to speak with you in a different language, one of our very own."

"Oh,  _tongues._  I see what you did there." She sighed as his arm tightened around her shoulders to draw her close to him. "Very well – mmm."

"Mmmmmm," he echoed, pausing the kiss. "Yes, that will do very well. Let us stay here for a while and converse thus."

* * *

The ride home was a quiet one. Although they had done nothing more than kiss for hours, Natasha felt utterly peaceful as though she had nothing left to fear. Their horses picked up on the mood and slowed to a walk; as the mare and Sleipnir trod the long, tree-lined avenue leading to the castle, Loki reached for her hand so they could go side by side.

While they dressed for dinner and went to the table, the calm continued. Natasha knew they were in the eye of the hurricane together; the daylong caresses and flirtations would certainly be capped with fierce lovemaking later. Loki's glittering eyes as he handed her into her chair, the mere brush of his fingers lingering on her shoulder, his head dipping just too close to hers as she asked him more about the runic scroll, all promised a wild end to such a peaceful day.

Even when All-Father Odin approached Loki to complement him on some cloak or some such thing, the god of mischief did not reply with his usual sneers and sarcasm. Instead he smiled, laughed at something Odin said, and turned to Natasha to explain the origin of Odin's dragon-skin cloak. Apparently he and Thor had gone hunting together during her stay in Midgard and slain the young dragon together; the brothers had ordered the hide tailored into a cloak as a gift for the All-Father.

Natasha admired the long cape, its glittering folds and soft texture. Privately she thought it was a bit much, rather like something a flashy pianist would wear in the early 1950's, but Odin was obviously satisfied with it.

And instead of rushing her away from the dance after the banquet, Loki insisted they stay with the company. Thor claimed her hand for a wild measure of gjalfrmarr, a fast dance based on the movements of the sea and tides. With a jolt of surprise, she saw Jane accept Loki's hand to be led onto the floor; the two pairs met in the center, switched places, swirled and stomped, shouting with the rest of the company in time to the music. They ended in a welter of applause, and the two brothers shared a grin. Privately Natasha considered Loki's face; she had never seen him so relaxed.

"I asked Jane if she could join us in the rune scrolls project, darling," Loki said as he led her to the side of the room.

"Would you mind, Natasha?" Jane added hastily. "I'd love to see what you found – runes are filled with untapped powers, I think – at least, they are here in Asgard. I want to discover what combination of surrounding natural energy and what Thor calls magic combines to produce those powers."

"By all means!" Natasha clasped Jane's hand enthusiastically. "We could really use your help. Thor, will you join us as well?"

"I may have to be somewhere else that day…" Thor said cautiously.

"But we didn't  _tell_  you a day yet!" Jane exclaimed.

Loki had already started to chuckle. "Would it help if we offer heart of bilgesnipe as a reward?"

"Or mead?" Natasha added. "Lots and lots of mead?"

"Ah!" Thor's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Now you strike interest into my heart."

* * *

As the crowd thinned, Loki slipped his arm around Natasha's waist.  _"Now,"_  he growled in her ear.

She just nodded, her mouth dry. The room whirled around them and resolved into their shared bedroom. Slowly, their eyes on each other, Natasha and Loki undressed and slid under the sheets. Like two drops of quicksilver sliding into one, she felt his arms possess her, his lips press onto hers. Her body shook with desire; he trembled next to her. "This was a golden day, one I will remember forever," she whispered as he bit her neck and glided his length into her secret warmth.

"You are my treasure," Loki exclaimed. Moving on top of her, he gazed intently into her eyes. His black hair fell around her face like a tent, making a dark, hidden room just for the two of them. "The colour in my world, my light, my song. I  _cannot_ go on without you at my side. Join your life with mine, darling. Marry me, Natasha."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my readers, and thank to Starbooks13 and to unbentglass for the lovely comments. You made me smile during a crazy weekend! And thanks again to all the guests and other who left kudos. I can't tell you often enough how much I appreciate it.


	14. Confessions

"Marry me," Loki whispered again and again. As they made love and approached their shared climax, he withdrew from her and lifted her to sit astride him.

"I will," Natasha said, riding his deliciously smooth member. "I'll marry you, Loki."

His face grimaced with the oncoming orgasm, and he slipped out of her again. Roughly he pulled her up to face the bed pillars and took her from behind. "Marry me," he said again, kissing her neck, winding his fingers in her curls.

"Yes, yes. I want to marry you, to be your wife." Natasha heard him pant, felt his stroke increase and with a cry of something like pain, she felt him slip out of her again.

"Here, against the wall." Loki lifted her to sit astride his slender hips as he took her standing up, repeating his demand by her ear while he pressed her against the wood panels. "My darling, my love – marry me."

"I will marry you, Loki," she promised. "I want nothing else, you've made me complete, I need to be by your side for the rest of my life."

With an effort he withdrew again, and drew her to the balcony. Her legs trembled so she could barely stand. Naked they stood side by side, looking out over the little garden. "Will you come out there and make love with me ere longer?" he whispered.

"But someone will see!" she cried. Too late - he had already picked her up, vaulted the rail around the balcony, and landed in the grass with a lithe flourish.

"Isn't this nice, to feel the night wind on our skins?" he whispered with a wicked grin. "And just have a look at how much I want you, darling. So desperate, hard as a boulder… see there, my prick wants nothing more than to be inside your warmth again."

"What if a passing guest should spy us from a window?" Natasha trembled under his bold caresses; truth be told, it was damnably exciting to stand naked with him under the night sky.

"This garden is hidden, but if someone dares to watch, that curious fool shall receive a lesson in how to pleasure a woman until at last she weeps for joy." Quickly he created a welter of pillows and drew her down to sit on his thobbing erection. As she flung her head back in ecstasy, Loki caressed her breasts and lavished them with his tongue. "Is there anything better than this?" he gasped. "To have me inside you, moving so slowly so we can feel every jolt, each twitch?"

"There's nothing better. I love this, I love the way you make love to me. But she's so close, Loki – I can't control it this time…"

His nostrils flared as he slipped out again, laid her down on her back, paused above her. " _Tell me,"_  he said. "Tell me you are mine."

"I am yours." She could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

"Tell me you will be mine forever." His tip hovered at her entrance, and she shivered at his touch.

"Forever," she gasped.

"And you will marry me? As soon as we can? You will be my wife?" Agonizingly slow in his movements, he entered her.

Her climax shimmered before her, inescapable, building layer upon subtle layer. "My husband," she moaned, and at that she felt him jerk his hips, slide up to meet her entrance, shoot wave after wave of his seed inside her, as she melted and crashed around him. Her entire being expanded and contracted; she pulsed like the beats of a huge clock. It was almost as though she and Loki flew above the couple in the grass, looking down from the air as they writhed together among the cushions.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he groaned into her neck. "It shoots so, it spurts…"

Unbidden, her body was slammed again in another wave of release. She panted into his neck, and they shook together as though they burned with fever.

A moment or an hour passed; she had no idea of time any longer. When she could speak she whispered, "Okay, that was  _intense."_

Sharply he turned to face her. "What does you mean by this word - intense?"

"I just meant I never felt anything like that, ever. You might be used to it after many centuries of sexing it up in Asgard, but…"

"No." Loki seized her hand to pull her closer. "I never experienced anything like that either. It seemed my soul was transported up there with you to float among the stars."

He pointed to the moons winking in the sky, and she pressed a kiss on his shoulder. "I know. I – I felt the same way."

A tear trickled down her cheek, and gently he touched the sparkling drop with one finger. "I told you I could make you cry with pleasure." He laughed when she hid her head in his chest. "Marry me," he said again, his lips by her ear. "And we will make it very soon – I refuse to wait much longer to have you as my wife."

* * *

Over breakfast, Loki eyed Natasha. She drank delicately from a massive flagon, one eye on the book she was studying. "I thought you could have a holiday today so I could take you to a place you would enjoy," he announced. "I have already arranged it with Sif."

She glanced up and frowned. "What about asking me first? You know, seeking my approval would be nice now and then."

His laugh was like a dog slipped off a leash; it would not be tamed. He loved to see her flush with anger. "I would have done so, but we both know you would argue, and I would cajole, and eventually after much tedious argument you would agree with me. This way saves us both a great deal of time."

Her eyes flashed, but he caught the telltale twitch of her lips. "Could you be more annoying?"

"I  _could_ , but I do not think you would like it."

She sighed and sat back in her chair in surrender. "Very well, but I insist on having an extra hour with Sif and her warriors tomorrow. And," she added, "I would also like a large room, if I could, to practice my arts later. My own forms of fighting and warfare. It's been too long – I don't want to get soft."

"Of course!" He felt delighted; she never requested anything from him. "I will have it done today." Natasha gave him her secret smile and returned to her book. Loki grinned, but inside he felt something like nerves. Truth be told, he had a few things to say to her neither of them would find pleasant, and he wanted to transport her to the most beautiful place he knew to break them to her.

* * *

"How did you find this spot?" Open-mouthed, Natasha gazed around the place surrounding them. A long series of waterfalls ran down a wooded hill, each torrent pouring into a tiny, shadowed pool fringed with Asgardian toadflax and rushes. A slight breeze tumbled her curls; Loki couldn't help reaching for one strand where it lay across her shoulder.

"It is getting very long," he remarked, tugging on the curl of hair.

"Yours too. Is there such a thing as a barber in Asgard?"

He made his face severe. "My hair is a symbol of my freedom and spirit."

"Okay, if you say so. Let me just wind my fingers through a little of that freedom and spirit."

Loki allowed her to caress him, folding her into a soft kiss. When he broke away, her mouth remained bowed for a moment as though she regretted the distance.  _Each attitude of hers delights me,_  he thought as he conjured a wooden seat for them lined with feather pillows, as well as a low table laden with wine and fruit. "Will you sit with me a while, Agent Romanova?"

"Agent Romanova no longer. Now I am merely Natasha." She sat next to him and curled under his arm.

" _My_  Natasha." He spoke idly, trying to configure the words he had to say in his mind.

Her body twisted to face him. "You have something you want to say – that much is plain. What is it, Mischief?"

"Yes, I have to tell you a few things, and I am not certain how to begin." Loki handed her a glass of wine, trying not to feel a pang as he watched her slender fingers curl around the stem, her lush lips part to take a sip.

"Well?" Her blue gaze was very direct.

"I suppose I have to start from the beginning. When we announce our betrothal, darling, there will have to be a big party. You will receive all sort of attention – bards will write sonnets in your honour, musicians compose lays about your beauty and wisdom…"

"Sonnets, music. Got it. I can deal."

"And we will have to move to the larger flank of rooms I originally inhabited, before – before the events of the last few years. You and I can stay in our little nest no longer, Natasha."

She nodded. "I expected as much. But I would dearly like it if we could visit there from time to time – I will always remember it as our first home. I know it was a prison for you, but for me it was – will always be – heaven."

"Prison? Yes! It was where you enslaved my heart. Never was there a more willing prisoner than Prince Loki of Asgard." He felt desire surge through his veins, but she evaded his grasp.

"But that is not all, is it? You have more to say. Tell me, and after you may have a kiss." Natasha took another sip of wine and curled her legs under her, settling herself more comfortably.

Loki ran one hand through his hair. She was right – it  _had_  grown long. "This is difficult for me to say. I just wanted to warn you about me – exactly what you are facing right now, the creature who sits next you in this sheltered place. No," he added as she tried to protest, "you  _have_  seen me as a dark villain and so I am, but you have not yet plumbed the full depths of my bitter temper. When Angrboda betrayed me for the last time so thoroughly it scourged my very bones, I burst in on a banquet at the Palace and demanded mead. And more, and more. And I got thoroughly drunk and lashed all at the table with my tongue, exposing each weakness of every guest there, so much so it became the stuff of legend. Loki and his wonderful table etiquette," he concluded with ironic humour.

"Hey, I'm not such a bargain either," Natasha began, but he pressed one finger to her lips to silence her.

" _You_  are a queen. I have watched you moving through the royal company like a heroine. Perhaps you do not see how everyone admires you, your bravery and wit, your beauty of course – that goes without saying – and the way you handle me so delicately and surely like a master rider on a nervous steed. I know it, and you know it, and I also must add, Natasha, you deserve a throne, a crown, untold riches, and I…" He suddenly dipped to one knee and gazed up into her face with wide eyes. "I have nothing to offer you but these empty hands."

"Loki." Tears slipped down Natasha's cheeks, and gently she placed her hands in his. "They do not look so empty to me any longer. And, honestly, I don't care one bit about thrones and crowns and all that stuff. You told me last night I brought colour to your life. Well, do you know what? You did the same for me. I spent years under the control of the Red Room and those who ran it, doing only what they wanted me too. And, yes, I was saved by Clint and SHIELD, but I still was a mercenary acting on orders, caring only for guns and vodka." She sank to the ground beside him, uncaring of the rich velvet gown billowing around her. "You make me laugh. You make me smile, every day. Do you know what I thought as we rode together yesterday? I realized for the first time life is for the taking, and I  _will_  take every second, but only at your side."

"By all the Valkyries of Valhalla! You …" For once in Loki's life, words failed him. He had no idea how to describe to her the brightness in his heart, the flaming light surrounding her lovely face in the shadowed forest as she knelt facing him. At length he shook his head and allowed his lips, his hands, his body do the telling of it. Gently he kissed her, murmuring her name softly as a child might voice a prayer, as he drew her down beside him among the rushes and toadflax.

* * *

Later they moved to one of the smooth, flat rocks by the river to splash in one of the pools. Loki watched as Natasha made a sigh of surrender and slid into the water. When she surfaced, he produced a small box carved from a single knot of wood. "Can you undo it, darling?" he teased. "It is designed as a puzzle."

"What is this?" Mirth trembled in her voice. Carefully she probed the tiny thing with her fingers; after a few minutes she discovered the trick. Two slots folded back so the little box resembled a horned helmet and she was able to open it.

Her laughter died as she saw what was inside. Loki removed the slender silver ring, intricately wound in a spiral to hold a moonstone in its centre. "Will you allow me to put it on you?"

In answer she held out her hand. He slipped it on her little finger and followed it with a kiss. "I had a large emerald diadem set into heavy gold prepared to give you as well," he added, "but this seemed more appropriate. The stone reminds me of your skin under the moonlight."

"It's perfect – just perfect. Besides, I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do with a diadem." Natasha reached up and drew him into another kiss; as he knelt to touch her lips, she tugged his neck so he fell into the water with a splash.

He reemerged, flung the water out of his hair with one swift motion, and grasped her naked body as she wound her legs around his hips. "Soon-to-be Mrs. Mischief, would you like me to fuck you here and now in this pool of water?"

"Why yes, Mr. Mischief, I would like that very much."

* * *

As the stars appeared in the shimmering sky, Loki hesitated at the entrance to the palace. "It was another golden day, darling."

"Yes, it was." Natasha slipped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath and forced her chin up with one finger so she could look at him. "It is time to approach the All-Father and Queen Frigga with our request. Are you ready to change your life forever?"

Natasha nodded, and the blue eyes sparkled with her own brand of mischief. "Bring it," she vowed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - Loki's description of the drunken banquet when he talks to Natasha is from the Poetic Edda : the most complete section of the runic verse. He is a thorough villain in that section, accusing all the guests of incest and worse. Yet however evil the Vikings meant him to be, I would imagine no one can deny he is one of the most fascinating figures in mythology.


	15. Red Betrothal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - Many, many thanks to unbentglass and sandram1 for your lovely comments. And thanks to all readers for taking the time to look at the words I've left here... Like Ozymandias, Look on my works, Ye Mighty! But don't despair. There's more.

* * *

The gods and goddesses sat in marble seats surrounding a vast circular arena. In the center was an immense table filled with complicated charts and maps; ranged over them were small clay figures which Odin or Frigga could move as necessary in order to keep the Norns and the Realms in balance.

When Loki and Natasha entered hand in hand, the queen looked up. She murmured a few words to her husband and moved quickly to her son, holding out her arms. "Loki!" she said, kissing him on both cheeks. "What brings you here? And Lady Natasha too. We were just about to finish our work here."

"Tell the boy to come in," Odin intoned. "Have him state his business so we can get back to it and be done in time to dine."

Natasha squeezed Loki's hand. Odin's tone was annoying, and she wanted nothing more than to launch herself at his neck and strangle him thoroughly.  _Boy? State his business? Really?_ However ticked off she felt, however, was probably nothing compared to Loki's anger.

The young prince took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "All-Father – Father – and Queen Frigga. Mother. Natasha and I are going to be wed. I want to announce our betrothal as soon as possible so I can make her my wife without delay."

"Well! This is glad news indeed." Beaming, Frigga embraced him again. She was about to press a kiss on Natasha's cheek, when Odin chimed in.

"Are you certain this is wise? Do not forget the last time you tried your hand at marriage."

"Father," Loki said in a strangled voice, "previously I ran off and was caught in an enchantment. I will not say I had no fault in it; of course I did. But this time I insist on doing it the correct way – with your knowledge and with the backing of all Asgard." His words were civil, but his tone was clear: he intended to have Natasha whether permission was granted or not.

Frigga turned to Odin. "It is a bit chilly in here," she said in a casual voice. "Will you not put on your new cloak, my husband?" As she tucked the dragon hide around his shoulders, she added, "I must say the palace has been an entirely different place since Natasha has arrived. No more gloom or tragedy – no tantrums either," she added, with a glance at her son.

"I will not deny the boy has decided to behave for a few weeks," Odin went on. "But what will happen when he tires of this mortal? A few decades of married life will make him long for change, tricks, lies - his usual pursuits."

Natasha felt Loki's hand tremble in hers, and she knew he was about to burst out in fury, to declare something cutting which would create chaos in that marble, ordered chamber. "I understand your concerns," she said. Immediately Odin's eye turned on her in astonishment. "Do not, however, underestimate me. I'm not looking for a long series of kisses and caresses in this coupling, which would indeed become boring to anyone." She lifted her chin. "I love Loki's personality and his mind. His quick wits, too often used for merely making mischief, are what attract me. I'd like to think I have a little bit of smarts to ensnare his interest as well."

Odin tried to interrupt, but she held up one hand. "Please allow me to continue. We work well together. We are friends, your son and I. Furthermore, you'll find I won't put up with temper tantrums or chaos from  _anyone_ , not just Loki." She closed her lips firmly and gave a nod, to indicate she was finished.

Odin, whose eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, turned to Frigga in astonishment. "I like her," he said in a surprised tone.

"Of course you do. When shall we have the banquet? This month? Next month?" Frigga asked.

"Tomorrow?" Loki murmured.

"Nonsense! There is so much to prepare. Lady Natasha needs a new gown, and I shall have to search out some of my diamonds to present to her.  _I_ need a new gown, come to think of it. We shall have to hire a new bard, and a host of musicians…"

"Did I not tell you?" Loki whispered in Natasha's ear.

"I don't suppose we could have, say, a family picnic instead?" Natasha was tired of the everlasting banquets in Asgard. "We could all sit outside and drink wine together in the moonlight under the trees – a much smaller, simpler affair."

"Nonsense!" Odin thundered. "Banquets are the tradition, and a banquet it shall be."

Deciding she had pressed her luck enough, Natasha nodded. Frigga, however, folded her into a tight embrace and kissed her again on both cheeks. "My dear," she said warmly, "I cannot tell you how very, very happy you have made me. I know this will mean a new era for my son and for Asgard. I know it."

* * *

The betrothal announcement forced a lot of sudden changes. Natasha was whisked out of her old bedchamber and into a new, luxurious suite of rooms complete with a salon, a dressing chamber, a closet the size of an apartment, and several servants to attend her every need. When she protested she could take care of herself, Frigga laughed and told her she would simply have to get used to it.

Grumbling, she submitted to being fitted in gown after gown, each more ornate than the last. As her dresser did up the final hook of her betrothal dress, Jane was shown in. The scientist came wreathed in smiles, and gave Natasha a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Ha ha ha," she crowed, pointing at her friend. "Didn't I tell you that you'd be engaged soon? So, how did he ask you? I'm sure it was all very romantic."

Natasha thought back to Loki's proposal and felt her face grow warm. "I'm not certain 'romantic' is exactly the word."

Jane giggled. "By the way, I feel I must talk to you," she added, growing serious.

Natasha turned to face her. "What is it?"

"Now, I hate to bring down the mood and everything, but as your friend I just feel it wouldn't be right if I didn't say something."

Natasha sighed. "I'm  _not_  going to reconsider. I've made up my mind and that's that. I know Loki was a real - well - dick before, but in his defense there were certain conditions... And I really do know how to manage him."

"No, that's not it." Jane leaned right next to Natasha's ear and whispered, "I hear you have to have _sex_  when you're married." Natasha's jaw dropped. "Like, with your husbandl. Just wanted to warn you."

"Jane, you idiot!" Natasha picked up the first object at hand, which was a hairbrush, and chased after her to smack her friend on the butt. Jane laughed and dodged, but eventually had to beg for mercy after she was cornered.

"And how about you and Thor, missy?" Natasha waved away the dresser, who was sniffing with disapproval. "No, it's fine, Soames – I really don't need any more jewelry or my hair done up higher."

"Actually…" Jane produced a long chain. Hanging from it was a heavy gold ring, emblazoned with runes and a large cabuchon. "He proposed to me a few days ago, but we didn't want to announce it just yet and steal the…"

"Thunder?" Natasha winked at her and gave her a hug. "That's awesome! Thor is one lucky god, and I couldn't be happier for you both. Announce away and have at it. I don't give a damn about all these stuffy affairs. Tonight we have another huge banquet; I know – shocker – and the bards will cant odes written about me and Loki. Actually, I can't wait to hear what they say about my future husband. Should be interesting, don't you think? Wonder if they'll work in the story of Sleipnir's birth? And we get to sit at the head of the table with the All-Father as a special treat, which means I'll have to be on my guard all night to make certain Loki doesn't say anything too terribly dreadful to Odin. After that we all watch Volstagg eat several oxen, and then it's off to dance. At this point, I could do it all in my sleep. And you know what? You're next. Prepare for the dresser of doom." She wagged her head at Soames, who was ironing the long train of the dress Natasha had to wear the next day.

"I wish we could just run away to Vegas," Jane sighed. "Still, I suppose it's the price you pay to date a prince from another dimension. And where  _is_  Loki, anyway?"

"He's been reinstated in his old rooms and probably is getting sewn into an uncomfortable suit of clothes right now. I'm preparing a large gift in advance for the valet who has to wait on him in order to apologize for the torture Loki is certain to inflict on the poor man."

"Ugh." Jane looked around. "Well, as you say, a few weeks of stuffy nonsense, and then it's back to being yourself for a bit."

Natasha shot her a look as Soames advanced on her again, holding out a head veil in a threatening manner. "I don't think we'll ever get back to that."

* * *

It was a huge relief to find Loki waiting for her in the rooms below. A smile leapt into his eyes as she descended and took his arm, swaying under the weight of the ornate clothes she wore.

"You are like a princess," he whispered.

"No, I'm not - more like an idiot." She eyed him cautiously. "Looks good on  _you,_  though."

He wore a severely fitted black velvet tunic and breeches embroidered with fine silver thread as though he had been born in them. His expression was formal, but he whispered to her, "I have never seen anything lovelier than your face in my entire life. What a shame they draped all that material over it so I cannot get a glimpse."

"Right? I feel like I'm in a cocoon." Surreptitiously she hitched her train so it wouldn't get stuck in a doorway. "First item on the agenda – start a fashion trend in Asgard for mini skirts, and lose the headgear."

"What wouldn't I give to see your shapely legs this instant?"

"Shhhh, we have to sit next to Papa Odin. You can't tickle my knees tonight."

"Is that a dare, darling?" Instantly a dangerous glitter appeared in his eyes.

"There are a lot of layers, but if anyone can find their way to the prize, that man is Prince Loki of Asgard…"

By this time they were seated. A long series of speeches began, and Natasha shifted in her chair. After a few minutes, she felt Loki slide his hand across hers so he could play with her fingers. Frantically she signaled Odin's presence, sitting regally next to her with a calm expression of interest in the long histories of the royal palace. Loki, naturally, paid no attention but started to work his way under her dress and the several petticoats she had been ordered to wear.

Just as he reached her knees, the history came to an end. Odin stood, and there was a long bout of hearty applause.

"I come here tonight not as the All-Father," Odin stated, "but simply as a father. Friends, it has been many centuries now, but I still remember these halls before the arrival of my son."

Natasha felt Loki's hand jerk with surprise in her own, and she gave his fingers another reassuring squeeze as Odin went on. "It often seems to me now that we were such a solemn realm then, a somber pantheon of gods and goddesses. But when Loki entered our lives, he brought laughter and excitement with him. Certainly he changed this realm forever when he entered it." There was a gasp from the assembly at those words, but the All-Father held up a hand. "Yes, there was danger too, but it seems to me that many of the stories we still tell about my son Loki are of his  _defending_  Asgard, and always at his own peril."

He raised his goblet and turned to face Loki. "Therefore, tonight I drink to my son, and assure him of my deep love. I thank him for his bravery, and for bringing his fair bride to live with us here. Thus I bid you all to welcome her, as I do, into our family as the wife of Loki Odinson."

Thor sprang up from his seat and raised his glass as well. "Skoal!" he shouted. "To my brother, Prince Loki of Asgard, and to his bride!"

As the company echoed the toast, Natasha glanced at the god sitting by her side. His eyes glowed but with something more than happiness. Was it contentment? Shock? Or the feeling that, after such a long time, the stars were realigning in the skies?

Odin held up the heavy flagon again, and the cheers died down. "And so, friends, it is with a very merry heart I announce to you tonight the betrothal of my son, Loki, to Lady Natasha of Midgard. Skoal!"

He drank deeply and turned to smash the goblet on the floor. At that moment, time seemed to slow down.

_Natasha saw Jane's face, laughing and cheering._

_Frigga's hands, clapping to applaud her husband._

_Loki's eyes on her own, tender beyond telling._

_Odin's glass shattering in a wide arc._

_Three drops of wine staining the white hem of her dress._

Those three red dots were the last things she saw before there was a huge explosion in the center of the hall. A spire of smoke shot up, and the cheers turned to screams.

She felt Loki's arms, protecting her. His pale face, filled with anger and fear, was intent on the figure in the smoke.

For there was someone there in the fire, a tall person with long, tangled hair hanging that obscured the face. It wore a long white robe, a torn, bloodied version of the betrothal dress Natasha wore.

" _No!"_  Loki shouted.

The figure raised one arm and pointed at Natasha. "Behold my gift for the bride," it said in a grating voice. Natasha screamed as a burning pain invaded her wrist and arm, but she had no time to attend it. "Where was  _my_  invitation to the betrothal?" the thing asked. "It seems if my husband is to be betrothed, Angrboda should wait upon him. What say you, my husband Loki Laufeyson?"

Loki sprang to his feet. "Angrboda!  _You!_ " Bitter anger filled his face. "I am not your husband, not any longer. I thought you were dead. Our marriage was dissolved centuries ago, after you betrayed me and killed my friend you lay with. Have you forgotten that, you scheming whore bitch?" With one arm he swept the plates in front of him off the table with a resounding crash. "Beiskaldi gargan griss! Oskilgetten ormstunga! How dare you, to come within a thousand leagues of this fair one next to me and pollute her with your foul fishbelly presence!"

"Hold your tongue a moment, Loki," Freya said, tossing back her blond curls. "There are both Aesir and goddesses present."

He whipped his head to face her. "Do not speak to me, Freya, seducer of men. Have you not lain with your father and brothers as well all of Asgard to serve your whorish desires?"

"Stop it at once." Natasha jumped out of her chair. "Angrboda," she said in the calm, passionless voice she used on assignments, "if the marriage between you and Loki exists I will be the last to interfere between you. But if it is indeed annulled as my fiancé says, then why should you wish to come here and speak to him so?  _And_  curse me in the bargain?"

Angrboda's dark figure swiveled to face her. "I hold what I have, and I also hold what I once had. Nothing is taken from me. Nothing. What is mine stays mine. Mark this, Midgard wretch, the runes I have now put on thy wrist forbid thee from laying with the god who was once my husband. Should he touch thee with lust in his heart, thou shalt expire in flames and misery, begging for Hel with your last breath. Marry if if thou wilt, but there shall be no consummation - no marriage bed for thee."

"Ever were you a lying witch!" Thor jumped onto the table and brandished his hammer. "I shall slay you now, as I should have years ago before you got your claws into my brother."

"Restrain your throw, my son Thor!" Frigga shouted. "Stop – everyone stop!" She raised a hand and beckoned to Natasha. "Come here, child, so the company may see what has been done. See, here – these marks are witchcraft." She pointed to three red, angry-looking runes on Natasha's wrist and held up the limb to show to the assembled gods. The flesh was swollen around the crooked figures, as though the marks infected her skin from the inside, and the Russian bit her lip so not to cry out as Frigga touched her arm. The pain was torture. "If anyone slays the witch Angrboda now, these runes will  _never_  be removed. Do not move, Asgard – we have no choice but to allow Angrboda to walk free."

"Neither you nor the oaf who calls me his brother make sense, it seems to me," Loki sneered. His eyes were slits filled with hatred, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. "Thor is a fool and the queen gives counsel instead of bloodshed. Thank you, All-Father, for bringing me into such a family: filled with cowards and halfwits."

"Behold thy bridegroom," Angrboda intoned to Natasha, pointing to the god of mischief. "I wish thee many years of pleasure and joy at that one's side." With another loud explosion and spire of smoke, she disappeared.

The company, as one, gasped. For a moment no one moved.

"Well? Do you enjoy the sight?" Loki spread his arms and addressed the assembly in a loud voice. "Seems the black jester has returned – you can always count on Loki for gossip to give you gawks and whispers, can you not, Asgard? Feel free to hurl your insults, Aesir sluts and bastards. I am back in kind to entertain thee…!"

"Enough!" Sif shouted. "That is enough!"

"Why so angry, Sif? Has your brother Heimdall refused you in his bed again? And are you a man or a woman, to give or receive the thrusting?" Loki sneered. His eyes were slitted with dark anger; Natasha had never seen him so far out of control. Even when he had attacked Midgard there seemed to be a dreadful logic behind his actions. Now it seemed the Loki she knew was lost, hidden in the depths of a new personality.

Natasha turned to Frigga. "Get him out of here,  _now._  Send him and me to his old prison rooms this instant before he says anything else."

Frigga raised her hand, and the room swirled. Natasha blinked and found herself in the library of his dungeon rooms standing next to Loki. His eyes fell on her, and he seized her throat in his hands. She knew he was in such a rage he had no idea what he was doing. "Have you come to mock me as they do? As they have  _always_  done?" Loki shouted. "I will throttle you first before I have to put up with your jibes!"

His fingers tightened on her windpipe. Natasha felt a roaring in her ears, and the room turned red.  _Red Room,_  she thought.

With one lithe movement, she punched her husband-to-be in the throat with the heel of her hand, followed by a series of quick. vicious kicks to his lungs.

He fell back, hacking and retching. For a moment neither of them moved, as they stared into each other's eyes. At last she saw the haze of anger disappear, to be replaced with self-disgust and a terrible sadness. Loki backed quickly away from her, scuttling like a scorpion, holding out one arm to ward her off. "I am ugly," he said. "I am foul, disgusting, a disease. Do not look at me. Go away, Natasha, leave my rooms.  _Ugly!"_  he shouted, and collapsed in the floor, covering his head with his arms.

Natasha waited, not moving.

"I am the Darkhold. The destroyer of realms. The bringer of Ragnorak. Do you think evil men desire to be thus? I fear myself and hate myself. You will  _never_ understand."

_I of all people_ _can_ _understand,_  Natasha thought. However, she knew such a statement would set off his temper again. "I know," she said instead.

The room became very silent. A clock struck somewhere, its bong! echoing in the room. She heard him, not sobbing, but instead drawing in great, painful gusts of air.

Once Natasha had knifed a man, a murderer, in the solar plexus for a case. She had coaxed him to her hotel bed and stabbed him there among the pillows. At the time he made the same kind of sound Loki was making now.

She heard the tiny mice, the illusions Loki had created for her, play a melancholy air in the bedroom they had once shared. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wouldn't allow herself to think of that past happiness, now shattered in one single instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - And Loki's Norse curses translate to: Bitch snake pig! Bastard serpent tongue!


	16. The Witch of Ironwood Forest

"Why are you still here?" Loki refused to look at her.

Natasha wouldn't let emotion tinge her voice. She knew it would be best if she spoke to him in a monotone, as she often did on a case confronting an emotional mark. "Rant and threaten all you want, but you will not chase me away." She was about to add something else when there was a footstep behind her.

"Lady Natasha!" Frigga came into the room, her beautiful face filled with relief. "I was afraid you might be…"

"Dead? And by my hand? Slain by a monster, is that it?" Loki confronted the queen, his eyes reddened with sorrow.

Odin came into the room as well to stand by his wife.  _Great,_  Natasha thought,  _that's all we need._  "Our concern is for you as well, Loki. We offer our forgiveness that you ruined your own betrothal banquet this evening."

"Excuse me, All-Father Odin." Natasha leapt to her feet. "Loki did not ruin anything. That was done  _for_  him by Angrboda, in case you have forgotten. And do you blame him? I would be spitting nails myself. Good thing I didn't have a gun in my hand, or that banquet hall would have been used for some serious target practice."

Loki gave an ironic crack of laughter and flung one hand out towards Natasha. "And  _this_  is the bride I hoped to secure! This courageous girl, who looked upon the troll-woman of Ironwood with such bravery, who saw me spew such insane and angry hatred - yet she still springs to my defense even now. Her soul, pure as that of a knight, I hoped to cleave to mine throughout the ages before it was snatched from me this night at the very moment of taking."

"I will still marry you, Loki," Natasha said levelly. "I don't give a single shit about the curse – we can live like brother and sister for all I care. I'll sleep in separate rooms and we can write, read, play Hnefatafl together - maybe pick up a case from SHIELD as well."

His eyes softened, and he reached for her hand. As his fingers touched her skin, Natasha couldn't help hissing with pain; the marks on her wrist glowed briefly like live coals at the merest brush of his fingertips.

"Nay. It will not work. How can I of all the gods in Asgard keep my hands to myself next to you?" Loki retreated, and his face was very pale. "And how can I ask that of you as well?"

"Let me see the marks," Frigga insisted. She reached for Natasha's arm and studied it. "Uruz, for lust. Thurisaz, danger and betrayal, also evil and torment. Hagalaz, suffering disease and disaster. They are all Merkstave – and all are bound to flesh and the bone beneath it. Alas, Angrboda thought long and hard about halting all physical interaction between you and my son."

Despite his anger, a flicker of interest and forlorn hope appeared in Loki's eyes. "Can you reverse the Merkstave to Elder Futhark?"

"What does that mean?" Natasha held her breath as Frigga gently touched the three red marks.

"The runes are now Merkstave or engraved backwards, giving them untold power for evil. If I could reverse them again, their meanings will change to the positive forms of freedom, erotic will, and testing – a trial." She concentrated, and Natasha cried out as Frigga's hand hovered over her arm. The pain in her wrist was  _nasty_  – a disgusting feeling, as though an infection boiled under the red marks.

After a long silence, Frigga shook her head and let go. "Nay, I can do nothing to sway their curse. Angrboda worked her will too strongly – I fear the runes must stay as they are."

Natasha felt her own anger explode, and she slammed her affected fist palm up on a nearby table. "Well, just cut the fucking thing off here and now with your sword and be done with it!" she cried.

"No!" Loki surged forward. "No, I will not allow it. You will not disfigure yourself for me… Natasha, I will slaughter my former wife for all of this. It has nothing to do with you. Please, will you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive. We are in this together, Loki."

"But my behaviour in the banquet – Father," he added, turning to Odin. "You saw. All was well for one brief heartbeat. You and I were so close to achieving an alliance – I meant to embrace you after your speech, to end the bad blood between us. It was to be a new beginning, a Karongar."

"What is Karongar?" Natasha whispered.

"The opposite of Ragnorak," Frigga said. One tear ran down her cheek, and she stepped forward to embrace her son. "We  _did_  recognize all those emotions and futures for you, Loki, and we rejoiced on it. To have it all stolen away at the moment of giving would enrage anyone, let alone ... Do not be sorry. I see now your betrothed is right, and you hold no fault in this."

"I still think it would be easiest if someone just lopped off my arm. I have another one," Natasha insisted. "I'll do it myself if no one steps forward."

Frigga shook her head. "Nay. As I said, the curse is now sunk to your very bones. Your entire body bears the mark of Angrboda's evil."

Odin swiped one hand over his face and sat suddenly in a cushioned chair. "This is indeed a tangle. What is to be done?"

"It seems we have two choices, neither very attractive. Either Natasha marries me to live her life in enforced solitude as a nun, or she returns to Midgard on her own. I cannot have her within my sight if she is not to be mine." Loki spoke with great certainty; Natasha knew when he used that tone there was no changing his mind. "We simply have to choose the lesser of two evils."

"I refuse to accept it," she countered. "You yourself taught me to widen my possibilities, not to narrow them. It is how you win at Hnefatafl, am I right?"

"This is not a game." His voice grew colder. Obviously he had decided to shut her out, for her own good perhaps; Natasha suspected it was his perverted way of being noble. "And perhaps you do not understand I no longer desire you, Mortal. It is time for you to leave me and Asgard, to return to your own realm."

"Oh, stop it already with the insults you do not really mean," Natasha said tiredly. "I have neither the time or inclination for them, nor do you. It is imperative to look at this from a different angle, to take it to a whole new level. No, do not interrupt me again, Loki, or you'll just get me really pissed off. The game  _can_ lead us to another possibility. There must be another option. Someone mentioned Ironwood just now. Is that where Angrboda lives?"

"She is one of the troll-sisters who came from there. As far as anyone knows, the wood is deserted." Odin shook his head. "I am afraid Loki is correct, and there is nothing to be done."

"No." Loki looked up, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes. "There  _is_  a witch in Ironwood Forest, the last surviving sister of the troll clan. Do you remember I told you the tale about her a few weeks ago, Natasha? Do you think there is a chance she could be found?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," she agreed. "I bet she's still there. In any case, I'm not going to lie about here any longer moaning on about fate and bad luck. I've got a couple of things on my agenda: One, get the hell out of this dress, and Two, saddle up and head out to Ironwood."

"This seems completely far-fetched! And when you arrive? What then?" Odin asked.

"I don't know - I'm making this up as I go along. I'll just take my ass into that forest wherever the fuck it may be, begging your Majesties' pardon, and I'll find Angrboda's sorority sister. Then I'll do whatever I have to in order to get the bitch to talk to me. I'm pretty good at that."

"Natasha!" Loki's face flushed with excitement, and he knelt in front of her. "You are a hero, a goddess of wisdom and bravery. And I of all people can attest that you are, indeed, 'pretty good at that'."

She gazed down at him and let her lips spread slightly. "It would really help if you came along and showed me the way. I'll go alone if I must, but to have you with me would be huge. We work well together, Mischief."

At the sound of the pet name he rose swiftly to move away from her. "I cannot," he murmured. "You and I among the trees – 'twould be a disaster in the making."

Natasha glanced at Frigga and Odin, somewhat embarrassed. "There has to be a way," she insisted.

The silence surged back as they concentrated. Odin's one eye closed.  _Best not be going into that sleep thing now, All-Father,_  she thought. Frigga went to the shelves, as though to search the volumes there for inspiration. Loki tapped one finger against his lips. Natasha thought of chilled vodka and how she could really use a tall drink.

"What is that music?" Odin asked suddenly. "So soft and so sad. It makes me think of my sorrow years ago when Fenrir was slain."

"I think you mean the little orchestra of mice in the other room. Loki made them for me as a present."

At Natasha's words, Loki looked up with a gleam in his eyes. "Mice!" he cried. "Of course. I  _can_  go with you, darling, although it will mean a bit of juggling on your part. You will need to saddle and ride Sleipnir, but my son will carry you faithfully – and me with you. The three of us will go together on your quest, to set out for adventure and destroy the marks on your wrist."

The bitter, ironic tone and sharp anger in his voice had disappeared. His laugh rang out in the room, and Natasha smiled. " _Now_  you sound like the Loki I know. But what is your idea?"

Slyly, Loki darted a glance at his mother. "You shall attend her upon her departure, mother, for I shall not be able to."

"What do you mean?" Natasha cried.

Loki disappeared. With an exclamation, Frigga grasped her husband's arm.

"Ah," Natasha said. " _Now_  I see. Very clever."

The god of mischief was gone. In his place sat a small black cat with green eyes, watching her with an intent expression.

Slowly she bent down and extended one hand. The cat came forward, sniffed her fingers, and rubbed his head against her arm. Immediately he began to purr loudly and jumped onto her lap.

"All righty then!" Natasha rose, clutching the Loki-cat in her arms. "I'm not having a runic seizure or anything. In fact, nothing happened to my arm, so - yeah. Looks like we have a winner."

"There is no pain when you touch the animal?" Odin asked.

"No _,"_  Natasha responded shortly.  _The animal indeed!_  "Mama Frigga, I will need some sort of carrier satchel so I can take Loki here with me when I ride out on Sleipnir. Can you hook me up with something like that?"

A triumphant light of battle filled the queen's eyes. "Indeed I can," she said. "As Loki said, this is an adventure – I think the bards will be telling this tale for years to come when it is done. Excelsior, Natasha! May your path be righteous and clear, and may your aim be swift and true."

"Preach," Natasha muttered. The cat's purrs grew louder, and he stretched up to lick her chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to unbentglass, sandram1, and emlawrence for your lovely comments! I'm always up for a bit of a chat, over virtual tea and HobNobs. ;)


	17. Flight

Natasha returned to the small suite of rooms she shared with Loki before their betrothal dinner, not sure of what to bring with her on her journey. She felt the material of her Black Widow outfit longingly, but at last she decided it would be silly to wear and far too bulky to pack. Instead she found a pair of slim riding pants, a shirt, and a pair of high boots made with soft kid leather. As she packed a bag with some other items – the toothbrush Loki gave her and extra underwear – the cat wound around her legs, stopping to rear up now and then to rub its head on her knees.

After she had nearly tripped for the third time, Natasha grew exasperated. "Get out from under my feet, Loki!" The cat instantly ran to a drawer in the table by their bed under the framed photo of Natasha from Midgard and pawed at the knob to open it. He turned to Natasha, mewed, and pawed again. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," she said, and opened the drawer.

The cat ducked its head inside and patted a flat box. Pulling it out, Natasha found it contained a huge emerald on an ornate golden chain. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "I take it this is the diadem you had made for me, right? Trust me, we don't need to drag it along with us. The point is to travel light."

Loki hissed, ran to the door, ran back, gazed up at Natasha, and returned to the door. She picked up the diadem, realizing the cat wanted her to follow him. Feeling a bit like a kid following a collie on an old TV show she trailed after him.  _What's that? You want me to bring a priceless diadem to some unknown place in the palace? Lead the way, boy!_

His tail held up like a candlestick, Loki padded through the long corridors to areas Natasha had never seen before. At last the cat stopped in front of a door and pawed at it.

"I'm on it." Natasha knocked. The door was opened by a pert maid in a uniform that fit like a glove.

"It is late," the maid snipped. "Her Ladyship is dressing for bed. Come back tomorrow."

She was just about to close the door in their faces, when a melodic voice came from one of the chambers within. "Who is it, Birghitta? See what they want."

Natasha recognized the voice at once as that of Freya, the goddess of beauty and love. Everything clicked, and she realized what Loki was trying to do. She held out the diadem in its box to the maid and said, "This is for the Goddess Freya. Could you please give it to her? And if you could just add how very sorry I am for what she had to listen to tonight, that would be just great."

"You!" Freya appeared in a diaphanous pink robe, her curls in charming disarray. "You dare disturb me after what your betrothed said to me this night, Mortal?"

"I know," Natasha replied, wedging herself closer to the door, "It was a really bad scene. This gift is for you with the compliments of Prince Loki to send his apologies - and mine as well."

The goddess took the box, opened it, and exclaimed. "Well! This is quite beautiful, but I have jewels by the case. Why should I let a little trinket melt my heart?" Freya closed the box with a snap and tossed it to her maid. Drawing herself up, she looked down her perfect nose at Natasha. "The terrible insults I received tonight I will not soon forget. Despite being the goddess of love, I highly value my honour and my family, and I am mightily tired of being accused as a whore."

The cat meowed, and Natasha nodded in understanding. "Well said, and your words do you credit just as Loki's words brought us shame. No one feels it more keenly than he does now. In his defense, however, he just had his hard-won happiness – his hope, his life, and our betrothal as well - stolen from him in a single instant. Perhaps there is no other who could understand that as well as you."

Freya seemed to soften slightly, but her tone was still sharp. "And why is he not here himself?"

"It is the enchantment. As you heard, the marks forbid him to touch me." Natasha held out her wrist, to show the runes to Freya; they had grown darker, redder, and the skin around them was puffier as though the infection under them had spread and was growing stronger. "We seek to break this dark magic from Angrboda, and if he stands next to me it is difficult for – for us both. Loki and I are very much in love," she added. It was the first time in her life she had ever admitted such a thing, but in front of Freya it almost seemed natural.

The cat jumped into her arms and buried its head in her neck, trembling with purrs. Freya raised one eyebrow. "Twould seem Puss is quite attached to your person."

"Yes, it's just what you think," Natasha said with a smile, caressing Loki's fur. "It is the only way we can be together."

The goddess of love nodded. "I see. Very well, I will accept the jewel." She hesitated, as though she would say more, but at last she merely tilted her head in dismissal and closed the door.

* * *

There was no chance in Hel she would return to the luxurious suite of rooms allotted to her. Natasha came back to the tiny prison now so beloved as home and trailed into the bedroom. She meant to sleep for a few hours and take off before dawn, to be well on her way before the Palace began to stir.

Loki's closet was filled with clothes he had given her, but she had always slept nude in his embrace at night. "Mischief," she murmured, "is there any chance you could conjure me up some pj's? I think being naked with you now would seem pretty weird."

The cat meowed, and a neatly folded square of cotton pajamas appeared on the pillow. Natasha pulled the corners of her mouth down and nodded in an appraising way. "Hm. That's handy."

Wearily she undressed, brushed her teeth, and got into the large bed. At once the cat jumped onto her pillow and curled up next to her, peeking at her with one green eye from under his tail.

"Oh, no," Natasha declared. "I never slept with an animal in my bed, and I'm not about to start now." Unceremoniously she shoved the cat onto the floor. "Go find a chair or a pillow or something."

She closed her eyes. Her wrist hurt, and the events of the day rushed back in her mind – the anger in Loki's eyes, the column of smoke, the gasps of the guests, her punch to his throat. His shouts –  _I am foul, ugly, unclean, a disease. Do not look at me. Go away, Natasha, leave my rooms. Do you think evil men desire to be thus? I fear myself, and hate myself. You will_ _never_ _understand._

She felt her lungs expand with sadness. Just despair was about to overtake her, the cat padded back, curled up beside her belly, and started to purr again. The sound was soothing, and she felt her very bones relax. Cautiously she slid one finger around Loki's ear, and the cat's purrs increased as he polished his head under her chin.

"Okaaaaay," she groaned, her head flopping back on the pillow. "You can sleep on the bed. But just this once."

* * *

Sleipnir reared and neighed when Natasha approached the horse; however, when the stallion saw the cat he quieted and allowed her to saddle him and climb on his back. She carried a simple pack with a few items, as well as the silver miniature Loki had sent to her on Midgard. Her sword hung by her side, and under her tunic she carried several daggers.

The cat rode in a carrier on the front of the saddle between her knees. Frigga had designed it beautifully so Loki was balanced evenly and able to sit up without impeding her horsemanship.

He did just that, looking out and sniffing the dawn air with interest. The cat's paws hung over the edge of the carrier like little fur loops as Natasha clicked her tongue and gave Sleipnir the signal to move out of the stables.

As the horse's hooves echoed on the long avenue leading out of Asgard, Natasha turned and looked at the Palace one last time. So much had happened to her there in such a short time, and she wondered when she would see it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many hugs and Loki kisses to my faithful reviewers sandram1, unbentglass, and Starbooks13 for your comments. You always make my day!


	18. What Happened Among the Thorn Trees

The map in Natasha's hands showed a straight route to the Ironwood Forest through the Asgard Mountains, where she had first traveled with Jane and Thor near Alfheim and the Enchanted Forest. At the wood's boundaries lay Ironwood, a small blasted heath according to the last recorded sighting some hundred years prior.

Sleipnir moved easily, although the road quickly grew steep and rocky once they were far enough from the Palace. After a few hours Natasha sighted a crossroads not marked on the map where the road split into three parts. "Now what?" she grumbled, mainly to herself.

Loki sat up in his carrier bag and mewed. Sleipnir rolled one eye towards the cat, emitted the horse version of a Harrumph, and chose the path to the left. Natasha nodded, impressed. "All righty then, you two. Looks like I just need to hang on to the reins and watch out for turbaned ruffians." The cat looked up at her, and absentmindedly she scratched his head; his ears spread and he started to knead the bag with his claws.

There were no ruffians nor anyone else nearby. Apart from the few dwellings she saw situated in bleak farms on the side of the crags they passed through, the way was deserted. A cold wind blew through the pass, echoing with a lonely whistle. After a few more hours, even the occasional barns disappeared and Natasha felt as though she, Loki, and Sleipnir were the only ones alive.

The light began to dim, and there was a constant rumble of hunger in her belly. Probably Sleipnir needed to graze as well, she considered. Natasha shielded her eyes, looking for a green meadow and a source of water.

"Know a good resting place, Loki?" she asked. The cat mewed again, and Sleipnir picked up his pace. After a few minutes the horse reached a spot within a tangle of thorn trees, so it would be sheltered for the night. Natasha dismounted, led the steed to a small stream, and watched as he drank. She knelt upstream and dipped her hand in to taste the water; it was clear and deliciously cold.

When she turned around, wiping her mouth, there was a small bedroll ready as well as a fire and a steaming meal on a low table. "Was that your handiwork?" She scratched Loki's ears and chest, and he collapsed on his side to wave his front paws at her.

Natasha ate hungrily, picking out a few scraps to give the cat with her fingers. He ate daintily from her hand, and once they were finished the meal disappeared. "I can't tell you how awesome that talent is!" she laughed. "I could have really used you in Budapest."

Her back ached with weariness. She hadn't slept much the night before, and the day's ride knotted her muscles with travel aches. The red marks on her arm were particularly tender, and she bathed her skin in the cold water.

Groaning, she slid into the bedroll and stretched out. At once Loki crawled in with her to curl up in her belly. She thought of pitching him out, but the wind was still cold and the cat warmed her insides. Instead, she ran her hand over his fur, and his purrs vibrated under the blankets. Natasha watched the magnificent stars through the clouds and trees for a few moments, but soon they wheeled and spiraled in front of her eyes and she fell asleep in an instant.

* * *

"Allow me to look at your arm, darling." Loki sat beside her bedroll in his Aesir form, one hand extended towards her. He was dressed in riding gear, with a loose white cotton shirt and braces holding up slim suede breeches.

Natasha sat up, astonished. Sleipnir lay on his side, emitting the horse version of snores. As she watched, the steed kicked one back leg as he imagined running through pastures and hillsides.

"Is it really you?" she asked.

"I am your dreams, of course. I don't want to hurt you afresh." Carefully he took her wrist in his long fingers and stared at the runes intently. "Each person – or in this case, troll – has his or her own signature when creating a runic pattern. I just wanted to study what is on your arm."

"Do you see anything?" Natasha asked.

He shook his head. "It is curious. Although it is many centuries since I have seen Angrboda's handiwork, this does not look like something she would have created. But mayhap the years have dimmed my memory."

"No." Natasha shook her head. "I don't believe that – you remember everything."

Loki's eyes closed, and he brought the palm of her marked hand up to his lips; for several long minutes neither of them moved. Natasha studied the long shadows of his lashes shadowed on his cheeks like dark fans. At length he released her. "By the roots of Yggdrasil, Natasha, _I_  should be bearing this curse. That this was visited upon your flesh is a torment to me – I cannot tell you how much. And when you offered to lop off your own arm without a second's delay last night, it tore me to shreds inside to see your courage."

"I don't know about that. You should have seen me trying to saddle Sleipnir this morning – I was a hot mess."

His surprised laugh rang out. "But I  _was_  there!"

"Oh, yes, of course you were." She grinned. "You know, I miss hearing your laugh."

His gaze softened. "Natasha, do not smile at me like that. I cannot answer for what I might do to you."

She let out a long breath. "It is a dream, so what is the worst that could happen?"

"I do not know, but I also do not wish to find out." Carefully he traced the three runes again. "Your arm does not look as it should. The skin is tender just here, and I am afraid there is something under the skin that will grow stronger if we cannot rid you of the runes very soon. We must do so without delay."

Her breath sucked in as he touched her; the mere brush of his fingers on the marks felt like she had been stabbed with a rusty razor. "I'll be okay," she insisted. "I just want to look at you for a moment."

Loki smiled, spread his long arms, and his face dimpled with mirth. "Here I am - behold." As she stared into his eyes, his expression grew solemn - hungry. Carefully he slid closer to her and put his arm around her waist. "Does it hurt when I touch you?"

"No, only when you brush your fingers over the runes on my skin.  _This_  feels like heaven."

He groaned and pulled her into his arms to kiss and nuzzle her neck. "I miss your sweet body beside mine more than I could ever say. My little assassin, my own heart's love, may I beg an embrace from those red lips?"

"Oh, hush." Natasha smoothed Loki's long hair back from his face and kissed him. Her stomach flipped and she saw stars as he slipped his tongue into her mouth – carefully at first and then more boldly. Instantly every nerve in her body awoke, clamoring for more.

God, he was good at it. She had never met a better kisser – 'passionate necking' she had heard it described as in an old film. Loki could have taught the couples in a drive-in a thing or two. He just seemed to love her mouth, exploring it with lips, tongue, and even his teeth.

He pulled away from her with a quick motion, eyes darting into the dark trees around them. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"I didn't hear anything. Just the wind."

"I thought I heard the breaking of a twig." Loki waited, on high alert, still clasping her close to his chest. At last he relaxed and smiled down into her eyes. "It must have been a fox, looking for a last tidbit ere he sleeps in his den."

Slowly they lay back together on the bedroll. "You must tell me the instant you feel anything different – any kind of pain," he whispered. She nodded, reclaimed his mouth, slid the braces off his shoulder and began to unbutton his shirt. Loki whimpered slightly in her mouth and pulled off her chemise; she felt the touch of wind, air, and his hands touching each inch of her skin.

Her heart beat wildly as he gasped and held her back for a moment to stare into her face. "Are you sure you want to…?" he asked.

She laughed into his face. "Was that really a question?"

"I suppose not... we are addicted to each other..." Loki drew her up in his arms again, pressing her to his flat, muscled chest. She knew he could feel her heart beating wildly against his, knew he felt her breath get faster as she lost control.

With hands shaking from desire they pulled off the rest of their clothes, panting into each other's open mouths. Natasha felt slick with desire, drunk with lust. Her entire being pounded as though she were already at the brink of climax. And as Loki spread her legs and mounted her, sheathed his length into her, she pulsed instantly around him. Her body had been waiting for his touch.

"Natasha!" Loki's eyes glowed in the dark, as though the mountain air caused him to take a more savage form. "You shall make me go mad, I am losing my mind for you, you spend as soon as I plunge inside you. Do you know what that  _does_  to me, darling?"

"I couldn't help it. I wanted you so badly, it's like my body needs yours all the time, and when you tickle me inside like that I lose all control."

He buried his face in her neck and bit the skin. "Now," he whispered, "let us see if you can do it again while I still regain some sanity." As he spoke, Loki slowed his tempo, pulled out to rub his erection on her soft, swollen button, growling and biting her lips as he did it.

She felt the wave build up again. As she locked her arms around his neck and propped one leg on his shoulder, and as he slipped back inside and teased every inch of her hidden pleasure garden, as she raised her hips to meet his, as their tongues met and licked each other, she felt as though she were riding a wild thing - a satyr or centaur caught in her heart and happy to be there in the net of her love.

With a strangled shout at the brink of her mouth Loki thrust wildly into her, and she screamed in answer as her core shuddered and his seed spurted in hot, passionate jets. It was beyond imagining. At last he sighed and relaxed between her thighs, kissing her again and again.

They fell asleep with him inside her, locked in the tender trap she had set only for him.

* * *

In the morning, Natasha sat up and looked around. The cat was still curled up next to her, and she scratched him under one ear. "Very nice," she whispered. The cat looked up with a smug expression, and she couldn't help gathering him into her arms to kiss his head.

"I suppose we should move on. The dream sex thing is good and all, but I'm ready for the real –  _ouch!"_  Natasha screamed and dropped Loki. Her arm was swollen and red, and the runes stood out on her skin as though they were burning wires inserted under the surface.

The cat came close, sniffed, and meowed loudly. He licked her arm, and although she jerked it away at once, the cool tongue gave some relief. "Do that again," Natasha begged. Loki lapped at the skin, and after a few minutes, the burning calmed so she could get up and dress herself. "Of course it  _would_  be my sword arm," she complained.

There was a small breakfast prepared for her, but she decided to eat on horseback since Sleipnir was stamping, impatient to be off. Natasha hurriedly tied up her pack, splashed some water on her face and arm from the stream, and prepared to mount.

As she placed one foot in the stirrup, a wild figure appeared from between the trees, making Natasha jump and drop her pack. Sif, her face dark as a thunderhead cloud, ran up and snatched Loki by the fur scruff. "Is this him?" she shouted. Not waiting for an answer, she drew her sword and held it to the cat's neck. "Man or woman? How dare you ask me such a thing, Silvertongue? What does it matter? Even if I were a hermaphrodite, I would still slit thy fleabag belly for you, and so I will do anon!"

Three things happened at once. Loki struggled and managed to sink his cat fangs into the pad of flesh at the base of Sif's thumb.

Sif dropped the cat with a curse.

And Natasha launched forward, kicked Sif under her chin with one foot while sweeping the warrior's legs out from under her with the other.

They both went down, grappling and shouting. Natasha got hold of Sif's hair and pounded the woman's face into the dirt with a good hold on the woman's arm to keep her there.

"Get off me!" Sif warned.

"I could kill you one of nineteen ways right now," Natasha promised. When Sif made an angry noise in her throat, she jerked the warrior's head back and smashed her kneecap into Sif's chin.

"By the powers of Hel, warrior, I give you my word I shall stand!" Sif shouted.

Natasha held for a moment and slowly let go of the woman's hair. She climbed to her feet and wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth, nodding to Sif to show her truce.

"Twas not ill-done," Sif admitted as she rose to stand next to Natasha. "Idunn's tits, you brought me down with the sweetest move ere I have been privileged to see! I would dearly love to learn such warfare, surely Midgardian of origin."

"It's the least I could do," Natasha admitted. "After all you taught me my sword play. Perhaps we could even merge the two, to create a new form of fighting."

"Ah!" Sif clapped her on the shoulder. "Now you speak words close to my heart." The smile faded as her face darkened. "But where is that foul vermin? I will not put up with the accusations he hurled at me. That Heimdall and I should…!"

"Oh, God," Natasha groaned. She felt as though she had spent a large part of the past few days apologizing for that ill-fated banquet. "We could go through my whole 'Loki is very sorry and it  _really_  isn't his fault if you think about it' speech, but I think you'd be bored after the first minute. I know I'm certainly boring myself."

Sif snorted, flaring her delicate nostrils. "I cannot deny this is true, but it does not take back that trickster's words. As soon as I see the animal, I will dispatch it with one slash of my sword…"

"And if you do, I shall dispatch you with one thrust of mine." Natasha stared into Sif's eyes, refusing to back down.

"Twould seem we were at an impasse."

"Sif," Natasha said in a silken voice, "how would you like to forget about murdering my betrothed and come on an adventure with me instead? I can promise you glory and something unknown thus far." The warrior looked away, but Natasha could tell she was tempted. "I could really use your sword," she added. "Look at my arm – this is what the troll bitch did to me, and now I can't hold a weapon as strongly as I'd like. But," she added in a regretful tone, "if you decide to return to the Palace instead, of course I'll understand. After all, anything could lie in wait for us as we draw closer to Ironwood, so if you prefer to sleep safely in your bed in your own room tonight under a roof and not below the stars…"

"Enough!" Sif shouted. "I take your point. I will ride with you, Natasha, and I promise not to slay Silvertongue for the sake of the friendship between us as warriors. But if Loki ever says such a thing about me again, I will not answer for the consequences."

Natasha nodded. "Fair enough." She looked around, made a "Psss psss psss!" sound, and Loki bounded out of the trees with a very dead rodent in his mouth. "Oh, no," she added. "You are  _so_  not bringing that thing onto the saddle with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the lovely emlawrence, sandram1, and unbentglass for your lovely comments. Sandram: I'm so excited about Muninn and Hunnin showing up!


	19. Science and Magic

Sif and Natasha rode through the mountains, negotiating narrow turrets and heavy outcroppings of rock on horseback. After many hours they began to descend at last, and the trees grew thicker. Natasha felt herself relax; with more cover she could feel out hiding spots should they need one. She shouted this to Sif, who merely humphed in response. "I would dearly love a good battle," the warrior replied. "All this riding without thumping an opponent on his fat head is making me soft!"

As the trees merged overhead and formed a dark wood around them, Natasha checked her map. "Is this the Enchanted Forest?"

"Aye. Never have I visited before, although I dearly longed to as a child." Sif looked about. "'Tis said the trees are filled with whispers at night and even the stones harbour spirits."

Loki mewed as if to agree, and Natasha felt a bubble of laughter. "Are those the nymphs and dryads you told me about before?"

He licked her finger. Sif turned in her saddle with astonishment. "Did you just talk to the beast?"

"Well, yes. It's really Loki, you know."

"All the more reason  _not_ to talk to him. Have you heard the story of how he stole my golden hair?"

"I did," Natasha replied, "but I must add your dark hair is really pretty. By which I mean it's far more warlike and violent than a golden mane."

Sif grinned and prodded her with the hilt of her sword in a friendly fashion. They fell silent, and Natasha concentrated on the road. Her arm hurt with each jostle in the saddle, and she recoursed to the old ways drilled into her in the Red Room.  _Separate yourself from the pain. Don't allow it to rule you. You are above it all. Feel nothing._

Her recent weeks spent at Loki's side had burned most of those defenses. He had peeled them back one by one to find her heart and let her live again, to be emotional. To kiss, make love, vow her devotion - all of that was new. Unthinkably dangerous things, and there was a time she would have run away rather than allow anyone into her head. Now she had allowed him entrance and there was no turning back, but in the meantime she had to reach that untouchable place again so she could complete the journey and not be defeated by the searing, constant pain in her wrist.

The two horses rounded a path, and Sif held up one hand. "I sense hoofbeats," she announced. "One horse, ridden by an amateur. Female, I should think. Frightened. Nothing for  _us_  to fear, but we had best be on highest guard in case anyone follows her."

Natasha nodded and gripped her sword. The tightening of her muscles made her hiss with pain; the cat twitched his nose and perked both ears.

Sif got down from her horse in one easy movement. "Just in case I have to cut her off at the knees," she explained.

Far away, a bird called, followed by another. Something slunk by in the underbrush far away; Natasha caught the sound and turned in the saddle. "Here they come," Sif breathed.

A horse galloped crabwise into the clearing. Jane was just barely clinging on, her face filled with panic. She let out a shrill scream as the stallion reared; Sif darted forward and caught the reins to calm the beast. "One of the Asgard mounts!" she shouted. "What the devil are  _you_  doing on its back? You could be pulverized under its hooves or, worse, let it throw a shoe or break a foreleg." She frowned and added, "How did you arrive in _front_  of us, in any case? You were still in Asgard, ere I left."

Jane fell out of the saddle, covered her face with both hands, and shuddered. "I studied the maps Thor gave me and found a system of passages within time itself to take me quickly into your path. Natasha – I must speak with you."

"What is it, Jane?" Cautiously Natasha dismounted, bringing the Loki cat with her.

"It's Odin," Jane said in a low voice. "He has forbidden our marriage – mine and Thor's. I'm not enough of a warrior according to him – don't have the ability to fight for Asgard - and so I cannot be a bride of the crown prince."

"And so you want us to teach you, is that it? Is that why you have stolen one of the finest mounts in the stable, galloped off, and interrupted our quest?" Sif's magnificent eyes flashed. "If the All-Father has stated his word, you must simply accept it as fate. Believe me, I of all the Aesir know the truth of that."

Jane wheeled on the lady knight. "You know what? I don't believe I was talking to you. And by the way _, Natasha,_  I was fine on Midgard! I had my job, I'd broken things off with Thor, but Nooo, he was the one who had to come along and insist we go to Asgard, start a life together here, and now it's all gone to shit because I don't know how to wave a tin sword around."

"Stop your sniveling and find some dignity!" Sif was outraged. "Return to your realm and learn to conduct yourself before contemplating a return to Asgard. By the gods, I am tired of women who think on nothing more than men and babies."

Jane's jaw dropped, and she bounded forward to stab one finger into Sif's breastplate. "I am a scientist! I hold fifty-seven patents and two lifetime professorships. The last thing I want to do is talk about men and babies. However, I have fallen in love with Thor now, and God knows I will fight for him!" Her glance flicked Sif up and down. "Do you speak to me like this because you had your chance with him and it failed miserably?"

Sif drew in her breath and smacked Jane across the face. Jane recoiled and drove her fist into Sif's jaw. The next instant the two of them were rolling on the ground, tearing each other's hair and screaming, "Bitch! Slut! Whore! Strumpet!" amongst other insults.

"Stop it!" Natasha yelled. The two paid no attention and continued shouting. She took a step towards them, and as she did the world seemed to tilt underneath her _. Look at that,_  she thought strangely,  _the sky is turning upside-down._  Her arm burned, and the weight of it pressed her down until she found herself looking at the moss on the ground.

Then, blackness.

* * *

Slit of light, smell of dust. Natasha awoke looking into a single, staring eye. The scene was familiar, and as she sat with a groan she backed away from the broken doll on the concrete ground. Somehow, she was back in the fractal maze, the one she had escaped with twenty prisoners during the Clerkenwell Syndicate case.

Natasha propped her head between her knees. Even though her arm hurt as though it had been on fire and someone had put out the flames with a shovel, at least she knew who she was. All she had to do was find her way to the outer room.

She got up and cursed. The maze had changed – now the room she was in had no windows. There was no door. She was inside a concrete cube, and there was no escape.

After ejaculating a long string of curse words, Natasha felt in her clothes for a weapon. She still wore Asgardian gear, and beyond the several small daggers on her thighs she had no gun or explosive disks.

Natasha looked around the cube. Except for the doll and a few Sears old catalogues dated from the seventies advertising polyester pantsuits, it was empty. She cursed again and began to search for a weak spot she could dig through with her largest knife.

There was a chipped spot on the wall that seemed the most likely. She stabbed her dagger into the concrete, but her arm was too sore to lever any strength into it. Whistling with pain, Natasha rolled up her sleeve; the skin was so swollen the sleeve was too tight to pull up. With her knife she split the seam, biting her lip to stop from screaming as she did so.

The runic marks were swollen. Cautiously she touched one mark. At that she couldn't help crying out; the pain was so intense she nearly fainted.

"Natasha!" The shout came from far away, but she recognized the voice.

"Loki?" With her good arm she pounded the wall. "Loki! I'm here! Can you find me?"

"I am coming…" He sounded very far away.

"Loki!" she screamed again, but the concrete walls seemed to swallow her voice.

A long time passed. Natasha lay on the ground to favour her wrist. She felt hot, but at the same time she shook with chills. Fireworks danced in her head, and she started to babble to herself: "Hypodermics. Engineered. Changed. Morphed. Barely human. Assassin. Perfect killing machine. Rose. Rose. Where are you? Rose!" Her old apartment in Stark Tower flashed in front of her eyes with its bare walls and empty shelves. The box of old photographs spilled across the carpet, and she dreamed she searched frantically through the images.

Natasha in geisha dress. Agent Romanoff ready for a masquerade. Dancing a tango. In a business suit, with heels and white shirt. In a slim gown.

"Natasha," she moaned. "Natasha. Who is she?"

"I know exactly who you are - you are my heart's own love," Loki said. His voice was on the other side of the wall. "Move back, darling - I am coming in to bring you back to me."

She heard a loud thump, and a network of cracks appeared on the wall. Loki's hand, complete with his armour and vambraces, shot through and cleared a space; eventually he leaned into the room panting and with a triumphant smile on his face.

It faded when he saw her. Loki clawed his way inside and carefully picked her up in his arms, cradling her head next to his shoulder. "Do not worry, Natasha," he vowed. "I will take care of you. Now, close your eyes – we shall return to the Enchanted Forest. Are you prepared?"

She nodded and her eyelids closed.

* * *

Natasha felt a swirling around her, as though she floated in a whirlpool. When it stopped, she heard a voice by her ear.

"I think she hears me," Jane said. "Have you got those bandages ready?"

"Yes. I found some of the leaves you described and have the water boiling over the fire." Sif's voice, sounding unusually gentle.

Natasha raised her head. "Hey," she said. "What's going on?"

"Hey! Good to have you back." Jane knelt next to her. "You fainted."

"Your arm has swollen to twice its size. I am worried about you, Natasha." Sif held out a cup filled with a steaming liquid and brought it to her lips. "Have a sip – I can promise it will taste quite dreadful, but it will do you some good."

"We'll need more than tea." Jane and Sif exchanged a significant look. "I may need to try and operate to lance some of the infection under the skin."

Natasha let her head fall back. "Oh, crap. Shit. Fuck. Okay, do what you've got to do."

Sif held up a bottle filled with a yellow, evil-looking liquid. "You can have a few snorts of this if you like to numb some of the pain. Be careful – it is quite strong."

"Oh, I can handle it. This mother's milk won't get me drunk, but I'll definitely have a shot." She tipped the flask to her lips and swallowed; it made lighter fluid seem like lemonade.

"It's true," Jane added brightly. "I've seen her in action – she's a martini machine." As the warrior tipped the bottle to her own lips she added, "And don't drink all of that, Sif – I'm going to need a shot myself after this surgery."

"Fair enough." Sif corked the bottle and put it on the ground by her sword.

"Where is Loki?" Natasha looked around.

"He is right here," a masculine voice said behind her. "Give me your other hand, darling, and squeeze as tightly as you like." She felt Loki's cool fingers slide into her fist, his lips on her hair.

Jane held up a knife, glowing red from the fire. "Okay, this arm isn't going operate on itself. Are you ready?"

"Do it." Natasha squeezed her eyes shut.

When the knife first sliced into her skin, she arched back and let loose a stream of profanity in Russian followed by a long series of curses worthy of a pirate.

"I'm so sorry!" Jane cried. "Just hang on. I'm going to cut under …"

"No need for the play-by-play," Natasha gasped.

"I have to agree." Loki covered her free hand with kisses. "Stay with me, my love, my wife. You have the soul of a hero and the courage of a champion."

"Do you need another knife, Lady Jane?" Sif asked.

"No, thanks – I think I'm good…" Jane's voice trailed away, and the burning in Natasha's wrist stopped. "Okay, I think that should do it. More water, if you could, Sif. Awesome, thanks."

Natasha gripped the front of Loki's shirt with her good fist. "Get me vodka  _now,"_  she hissed.

He smiled, one dimple popping into his cheek, and handed her a chilled bottle. "Here 'tis."

She lifted the alcohol to her mouth and chugged for a few seconds. When she finished taking care of Natasha's arm, Jane held out her hand. "I could use a drink of that."

"I would not mind a taste myself." Sif peered curiously at the clear liquid.

"I would not mind either, but I might lose my control." Carefully, Loki leaned over and kissed Natasha's forehead. "Time for me to get back into my furry skin, my love." He disappeared, and the cat padded to her and curled up in the crook of her neck.

Natasha raised her sore wrist. The swelling seemed to have gone down, and the arm was covered with a neat bandage. "Not bad," Sif remarked to Jane.

"Thanks! You were pretty good yourself."

"So, you two are all friendly now. What's up with that?" Natasha asked. "A second ago you were rolling on the ground tearing each other's hair out. And – a  _catfight?_  Really?"

Jane reached for the vodka, took another long swig, and handed it back to Sif. "You know, once you operate together on a friend with a dagger and some unknown leaves in hot water as the only available anaesthetic, any argument you might have between you kind of takes a backseat."

"Not to mention you have a decent bunch of fives, Lady Jane," Sif added. "Your fist has won my respect this night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to emlawrence and sandram1 for your wonderful feedback. I have amazing readers!


	20. Different Faces

Although Natasha wanted to get back on the road, Jane refused to allow it. "Absolutely not!" the scientist cried. "You just had surgery – well, if you can call digging into someone's arm with a knife and home-brewed alcohol 'surgery'."

Sif agreed. "As much as I would like to be back in the saddle, 'twould be best if you sleep for some hours before we attempt the quest again. Besides," she added, "Jane sorely needs a good lesson in how to ride a steed from Asgard."

"Stellar idea. That would be really helpful." Jane jumped up. "'Kay, girlfriend – grab a nap, and I'll do my best to learn how to gallop on that big camel over there." She was born away by Sif, and Natasha lay down.

As always, Loki came and curled up in the curve of her stomach. "Thanks for rescuing me," Natasha whispered. "How many more times do you think we'll pull each other out of danger?" In answer, Loki licked her chin and her nose before starting to purr loudly.

Carefully, Natasha put her good arm around him. The wrist with the runes felt better under the bandages, but she knew she wouldn't be able to fight a duel with it anytime soon. Perhaps sleep would be good, even though the sun was just starting to set in the crimson-streaked sky.

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered. "Hello, pet," someone said.

It was the Lady – the one who had visited her the night she had first found out about Anzhela's existence. The exquisite woman sat on a chair in the grass, dressed in a black tailored dress with a severe collar and a neat green ribbon tied around the high neck. "I thought it would be best if I visited you in this form to remove some of the temptation."

Natasha sat opposite her in another seat filled with soft pillows and a warm blanket. "Why worry about temptation?" she asked. "Do you think my arm was affected by us getting busy in my last dream?"

"What is 'getting busy'?" Lady Loki tilted her head to one side.

"I think you already know the answer to that." Natasha shot her a look. "And by the way, you're not exactly removing temptation, especially when you're wearing a dress that fits like a glove."

"Thank you very much, darling." Lady recrossed her legs.

"Actually, I'm really glad to see you. It's been a while – I …" She realized she had missed Lady Loki. Their time together was so short: one single uproarious, drunken night of laughter and breathless flirtation.

Lady Loki sucked in her breath and her eyes narrowed. "Ooh. Perhaps this was a mistake. I thought we could speak together, woman to woman, and I could soothe your arm with my fingertips, like so, and that would be the end of it. But you are very naughty, love, and you give me such  _ideas_  when I see you." She got up, knelt by Natasha's seat and licked her palm. Her black lipstick left a kiss mark there. "Shall I visit you like this when we are married, pretty?"

Natasha's heart stuttered. She suddenly remembered she was betrothed a man who had so many sides to his personae he could satisfy any forbidden craving, any hidden urge. "This  _really_  was a bad idea," she whispered.

Lady threw back her head with laughter. "It really was. Ah, what fun we are going to have together, my love. And think of the delicious mischief we can get up to!"

A long lock of black hair escaped to lap over Natasha's knee. She picked it up to wind around her finger, and Lady Loki captured one of her red curls in turn. "Do  _you_  love me? As the Lady, I mean?" Natasha asked. It seemed so strange and yet completely natural at the same time.

The Lady smiled, displaying the same dimples Loki had. "You are part of me forever. Look." She twisted the two strands together, red and black in a shining spiral. "Tell me, do you miss the other mask?"

"Loki?" Natasha asked. "Of course I do…"

"No. I meant the other fellow."

"Ahhhh." The Jotunn. "Absolutely. He was our first time together, you know. I'll never forget that – even though I was freaked out at the end of it. It wasn't from being intimate with a Frost Giant, by the way -  _that_ was beautiful. It was just coming to terms with you and me. You were my enemy for so long, and then you were a prisoner, and the whole concept was just so weird – that I could be starting a relationship with  _you o_ f all people. But," she added, "in the end I just couldn't resist, obviously."

"And would you choose to be with that side of my nature again? To 'get busy', if I may borrow your phrase?" Lady Loki's eyes narrowed, as though she were wary of Natasha's response.

"Of course. I hope so, at least – it was  _very_ satisfying." Natasha reached out and threaded her fingers through Lady's, brought them up to her lips. "Perhaps as a wedding gift you might give me the ability to truly lie with the Jotunn - to touch you in that form and not be burned with frost – is there some magic you could work to allow it?"

"Hmmm!" The Lady considered. "Now, that is interesting. Would you truly like it? It might be dangerous…"

"Yes, it might. However, you and I were always ones for tickling the tail of the dragon," Natasha added.

A light kindled in Lady Loki's eyes, and she beckoned with one long finger. Natasha leaned over her, heard the woman whisper, "I truly cannot wait to be married to you." Their kiss was deeply passionate, the Lady's tongue moving smoothly over Natasha's. When the Russian opened her eyes at last, it was Loki himself kneeling in front of her, his eyes still closed from the embrace.

"You." Natasha cupped Loki's face, considered the miracle that was him. He was so many things at once, so dangerous and so untamed, and he was all hers.

Loki opened his eyes and smiled regretfully. "That was a stolen moment. I should not have done it."

"Wait!" Natasha brought her face closer. "Before you rush off, I want to know something. When you switch forms to another of your masks – do you think differently? Do you change here as well - inside?" She tapped his forehead.

With a surprised, wary expression he withdrew a little. "I suppose I do," he replied slowly. "No one ever asked me that before – I never even asked myself." Loki gritted his teeth and his breath hitched. Brushing his long, black hair out of the way, he bent over her to whisper in her ear, "However, one thing  _never_  changes. Lady, Jotunn, or Loki – you alone hold my heart."

He disappeared, leaving only the black lipstick on her hand. Natasha woke fully and sat up, brushing sleep from her eyes. The cat uncurled with a 'mrowr!' sound, and she tickled his belly, skritched the fur between his ears, lavished kisses on his neck.

Jane and Sif returned through the trees, laughing about something Jane's horse had done. When they saw Natasha, Jane waved and shouted something about a fire and a warm meal.

_Fire?_  Natasha thought.  _Mine's already burning._

* * *

As soon as the sun turned the black to a grey in the forest, Natasha was up, packing her things. Jane shielded her eyes, groaned, and jumped up in a panic. "Are you certain you should move? Let me see…"

She reached for Natasha's arm. "I'm fine," the Russian growled. Unfulfilled desire was a snake in her belly, making her desperate to be on her way.

Sif was already by the horses, testing the saddles and polishing her bridle with one sleeve. "We ride!" she shouted. "Time to go and find the troll-bitch – by Volstagg's vast trembling bottom, my sword is ready for a taste of her foul blood!"

"Huh," Jane muttered. "'Volstagg's vast trembling bottom'. Now there's a mental image I could do without before breakfast."

"Speaking of breakfast…" Natasha picked up the three napkins that instantly appeared in the grass, each filled with a fragrant loaf. "Thanks, Loki."

Jane looked at the huge horse with trepidation, grasped her bread, and clamboured up into the saddle. There she swayed until she got her feet properly into the stirrups, and she blew out a long breath, white in the frosty air. "I  _can_  do this," she said as though to herself.

"Absolutely!" Natasha winked at her and followed Sif to the dark path. "Will we arrive today?" she called.

"By evensong at the latest." The warrior twisted in her saddle to shout back, "Rise and fall, Jane, in your stirrups as I showed you."

"The rising thing I got - I'm not so sure about the falling," Jane muttered.

The trees grew very dense around them. Jane made the horses stop twice, once to pee and again to change Natasha's dressing. The runes were still an angry red, but the incision from the impromptu surgery seemed to be healing cleanly. As the scientist wrapped a strip of the napkin left over from breakfast around the affected wrist, she nodded. "I think it looks better, but those marks are so weird. I just get the oddest feeling from them."

"You do?" Natasha climbed onto Sleipnir's back. "Loki said that a magician could sense the runes, understand what each meant."

"I'm no magician, but I do get images when I touch the marks," Jane mused. "This first one, Uruz, is a huge beast with horns so enraged the dust whirls up around it. There is violence, but I see the possibility of an unexpected change for the better. The second is Thurisaz. It is a thorn, or a giant. It represent evil and danger now, but it holds the key to a cleansing fire. And the last is Hagalaz, different from the first two. It represents Hail as well as disease. I cannot read it as well as the first two…"

"Wow." Natasha sat back and let Jane wrap the bandage over the marks. "That was pretty in-depth."

"If in-depth means complete, I agree," Sif said. "Are you certain you are not a magician?"

"I can't even do a simple card trick!" Jane tied off the square with a neat knot and grinned. "There. I'm getting better at this."

As Natasha resettled Loki in his carrier, she added, "Still, I think you've got some kind of untapped ability."

"Maybe." Jane sounded unconvinced.

* * *

Just as Sif called for a third halt, the cat sat up in the carrier. His tail swollen to thrice its size, he hissed and spat. Before Natasha could wonder at it, he disappeared and was replaced by Loki, seated between her legs on Sleipnir's neck.

"This is it, darling. We are at the Ironwood Heath and," he added with a contemptuous look at the surroundings, "a more blasted, forsaken place would be difficult to imagine."

Natasha shifted back in the saddle to give him room. "You know, you could give me a warning when you do that." Her eyes widened as a huge structure came into view in front of them – as tall as a castle, it was shaped like a tall mound and looked like someone had heaped dirt and stones there over the centuries. Two or three holes shaped like rudimentary windows could be seen, and there was a rough version of the door in its side.

"This is our destination, you say?" Sif asked Loki. He nodded, and she jumped off her horse. "Allow me to rattle the knocker of the troll."

She was about to pound on the rough door when it opened. An old woman swept a cloud of dust and old leaves out of the dwelling straight into Sif's face. "Eh, I am that sorry. Din't see naught, after t'cleanup of t'settle." She peered closer through wrinkled slits of eyes at the riders and Sif, who was prepared to launch into a violent storm of enraged shouts. "Cans't help thee, travelers? Bain't an inn, but can give thee small beer and barley loaf if t'hast a mind to it."

"Enough, old one," Sif demanded. "Your troll sister has accursed my friend, and we are here to see an end to it. Is Angrboda within? For long and sharp is the conversation I would have with her." She fingered the edge of her sword meaningfully.

Loki jumped down as well and held up his hand to assist Natasha. "Here is the maiden," he said, "and we mean to stay until the black spell is lifted."

As he spoke, the old woman focused on Natasha. "Aye, cans't figure a dark shape around thee," she muttered. "Angrboda no longer dwells here, nor has she been seen nigh on a century or more, but mighten this auld one can at least change t'curse."

Jane dismounted and chimed in eagerly. "Yes, that's what I saw! A dark shape. Those marks are nearly impossible to shift, aren't they? But they  _can_  be reversed to their opposing meanings."

"Exactly," Loki agreed. "Show her your arm, Natasha, but listen well, prune, one trick and I shall hack your head from your body."

"There's no need for all that." Natasha rolled up her sleeve and tugged at the bandage. The runes stood out in red, although the skin had begun to puff up again around them. "I'm certain we can find another way to get her to spill her guts without carving them from her belly."

The woman nodded when she saw the marks. "Aye. T'evil spreads, although t'was recent let out to swell up again like a puff adder under t'skin. 'Twill come back, look on and right soon, howsomever."

"Can you remove them?" Natasha glanced at Loki, whose brows were twitched down over his nose in concentration and simmering anger.

The woman seized the hand and grinned, showing three stumps of teeth among red, glistening gums. "Remove? No. Reverse – perhaps. What price?" she added in a hiss.

Loki held up a warning hand. "Gold, or jewels, or both – a basketful of riches if you wish."

"Fair. 'Tis accepted." She held out a hand, and with a shudder Loki touched two fingers to her palm. "Now," she continued, "hold out t'limb once more, and we shall see what we shall see…"

She waved one spotted, wrinkled hand over the runes. Natasha felt Loki's arm around her waist as the marks shimmered, turned green, and flipped over on her arm. Instantly a bolt of relief shot through her skin as the pain in her bones melted away.

"It's better!" she cried out. "Wow."

"But that was easy." Sif's white forehead wrinkled with concern.

"Too easy." Loki looked closely at the runes. "What have you done?" With a sudden motion, he struck out with one arm and seized the woman by her throat.  _"What have you done?"_  he roared.

Her features melted. They were replaced by a face Natasha remembered – the solemn, angular features of Angrboda, last seen at the betrothal dinner. She was still in the bloodied, white dress from the dinner, and her tangled hair hung long down her back, filled with twigs and mud. "The marks are reversed to Elder Futhark as you wished, Former Husband of Mine, and I will indeed have my golden payment," Angrboda declared. "However, the staves stay on the limb – and each gives the impostor wife one day of life."

Maddened, Loki threw himself forward, ready to strangle her. "No!" Natasha shouted. "Loki, back off. Just – just tell us. What do you mean by that, Angrboda? I have three days? What do I have to do?"

The woman shook Loki off and drew herself up. "You have three days, and three trials. Three days and no more. Each trial removes one stave. If they are not all gone when the last moment ticks by there is no more time for you. At that instant, impostor wife – you will have no more time and your life is forfeit to me."

Natasha raised her hand and looked at the marks. "Just to be clear - these have to be gone in three days or I die?" In answer, Angrboda nodded.

All of them except for the troll from Ironwood jumped when Loki threw back his head and emitted a long howl of anguish. In a moment, there came answering howls from the woods surrounding them.

"Wolves," Sif said. "It wanted only that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to emlawrence and starbooks13 for the lovely comments, as always!


	21. Uruz - Unexpected Change

Although Loki still held Angrboda by the throat, the woman stared fearlessly into his eyes. "Three days," she repeated. At that the edges of her form began to melt; he cried out and tried to grasp her, but she disappeared under his fingers like mist.

His lips curling with anger, Loki let go another long stream of Norse curse words. Natasha assumed that was what they were, at least - his entire frame trembled with fury. "I know you're seriously pissed, but could you just focus for one second?" she asked. "I could really use your help so I don't - you know - die."

Loki grimaced, his upper lip becoming white as he tried to control himself, and turned to Natasha. "Let me see the marks." Cautiously he brushed the three runes, now outlined in green instead of red. "Uruz, Thurisaz, and Hagalaz – Ox, Thorn, and Hail."

"Ox!  _That_  was the huge beast." Jane hit herself on the head with the heel of her palm. "Oh, I really don't deserve the title of scientist any longer if I can't identify frigging animals…"

"You said you saw the beast in a whirlwind of dust. What could that mean?" Still holding Natasha's wrist, Loki frowned at Jane.

"I have no idea. I definitely got the image, though…"

"Try again. Show her your arm, Natasha," Loki insisted.

Jane cleared her throat and carefully touched the wrist before nodding. "Yes, I still see the ox in the center of a storm. Clods of mud, even stones whirl around him."

"What on earth does it mean?" Natasha felt bewildered. She would have killed for a dirty martini with extra olives at that moment.

With a loud oath, Loki dropped her hand and stalked forward and slammed his fist into the trunk of the nearest tree. "I handed your life to the witch in a moment and offered to pay for the privilege! Why did I not see who she was? Of all beings in this or any other realm, _I_  should be able to see past the masquerade Angrboda put up." He added more rude-sounding Norse words and slammed his bleeding knuckles into the trunk again.

"I am counting to one hundred." Natasha put her hands on her hips and raised one brow.

"Why? What is the purpose of doing so?" Loki snarled.

"That's exactly how long you have to beat yourself up. It's done, it happened, and by the way the runes  _are_  reversed now. All I have to do is pass three little surprise quizzes: that's cake. As I mentioned, I could use a little help, though."

"I think I know what you need to do," Sif announced. She pointed to the door of the huge stone and dirt mound. "Look."

The door now bore the Uruz rune. "Huh," Natasha muttered as she felt the figure carved into the door. It felt as though it had been there for centuries. "That wasn't there a minute ago. Mud and stones, huh? You were spot on, Jane."

"This is dark magic," Loki warned.

Natasha looked around. "Still, it looks as though I have no other choice. Well, who's up for some fun?"

Sif grinned and drew her sword. "I thought you would never ask it!"

"Sure," Jane agreed.

"I am ready of course, but the last thing I want you to do is enter that accursed dwelling." Loki's nostrils flared as he regarded the door.

"We really don't have another option. C'mon, let's check it out. Maybe Angrboda has a liquor cabinet." Natasha winked, wrapped her fingers around his sleeve and pulled him to the door, which opened easily with one touch. "See? Someone was expecting us."

She and Loki entered, but when Sif and Jane tried to follow some unseen force stopped them. "We can't follow you inside!" Jane called. Her voice sounded hollow and muted, as though she was talking on the other end of a really bad phone connection.

"Okay, just wait for us and keep safe." Natasha gave them a thumb's up and regarded the interior of the dwelling. It was dark, of course – that was only to be expected. Strange humped objects lurked in the corners, and somewhere a creature moved, its claws clicking on the floor.

Loki put his arm around her waist and whispered, "Stay close by my side. I will not answer for what we may encounter. Although at this moment, I am angry enough to pray for a fight. What would I not give to be able to thump some skrull's head or sew up Angrboda's lips for her?"

"I'd love some real action myself, not this dirty runic magic shit. Like, a stakeout with me on the business end of a distance rifle would be sweet right about now." Nodding, Natasha moved with him through a long, dark room. It narrowed at the end into a stubby passage with holes leading off on both side.

At the end there was a larger hole. Natasha pointed to it, and Loki nodded. Slowly they moved in that direction. "It is like a room, but a very troll-like version of one," he said. "Ugh! And that stench – 'tis truly foul."

At that, a light flickered. Someone within had lit a lantern, and by its flame Natasha was able to see what lay in the space.

A man dressed in a white coat stood by a metal table, holding a hypodermic in one hand and a lamp in the other. As he set the lantern down on the metal table, he looked completely innocuous if also out-of-place, with horn-rimmed glasses and an old-fashioned haircut.

When she saw him Natasha shuddered, held onto Loki's arm for support, and shook her head. "Oh, no," she said. "No, I can't do that. Not the injections – anything but that, okay?" A boiling rage filled her lungs, and she darted forward to stab her finger into the man's face. "I  _can't_ do that again!" she shouted. "I already fulfilled my obligations to the Red Room!"

"'Just one little prick and it is over," the man said. "Is that not what they always told you?"

Loki reached her side, his nostrils flaring. His dagger was already in one hand, but when he thrust it at the man in the white coat it went through the doctor's body as though it were never there. "Come back this instant and fight me like the son of a whore you are!" he shouted.

The man reappeared on the other side of Natasha, and he indicated a chair. "As you wish, but her mark of Uruz will never leave until she has all of this in her veins." As he spoke, he held up the hypodermic. It was filled with a thick, black liquid that seemed to move and boil as they gazed at it.

Natasha expelled a long, shuddering sigh. "We should have known whatever was inside of this hellpit would really suck." She warded Loki off with one hand as he threatened the doctor again with his dagger and groaned. "I guess it's the only way. I – I think I can do this…" She moved to the seat, but Loki stopped her.

"No. Give it to me instead. Whatever it is, I was the one who should pay forfeit, not this sweet life."

The man shook his head. "As I stated, her first stave will stay with her forever until she alone receives the entire ampoule into her system. And, as we all know, 'forever' now means three days for Agent Romanoff." He flicked the glass tube with one fingernail, in the manner of a comfortable, staid family doctor.

"It's okay, Loki." Natasha sat in the chair, rolled up her sleeve, and beckoned to the doctor. "Do it quickly, before I…"

Her voice died out. Loki knelt next to her and picked up her other hand. He stared into her eyes intently as the man raised the needle and jabbed it into her forearm.

Natasha felt the cold of the metal, followed by the colder liquid. Quickly the temperature turned to a fevered burn as the stuff hit her veins; as her heart thumped, the alien liquid swirled through her body. She felt her legs spasm, begin to drum on the ground, and she knew she was going into a seizure.

In the Red Room the inmates had a sordid joke that there were two kinds of injections: the bad ones and the _really_  bad ones. She had just been given the second.

Natasha heard a gasp and the lights went out as her head slammed forward hitting the table. Next a strong arm lifted her to drag her away from the metal table, the smiling doctor, and the lantern-lit room. Vomit surged in her throat and she couldn't help spewing the stuff on the floor; even as Loki helped her out of the strange dwelling she retched up more and more bile until she collapsed in the dirt at his feet.

* * *

There was a small fire, and by its light Jane and Sif prepared to lie down for the night silently, without any of their usual conversation. Loki was missing; once he had helped Natasha to her small bedroll, he had taken off into the forest and hadn't returned.

She couldn't blame him. Now that he knew what she was, what had happened to her all those years ago, how could he stand to be near her? The black liquid still seared her arteries, doing fuck-all to her innards and DNA.

"We should get some sleep. Who knows what the morning will bring?" Jane leaned back. "Would you like some more water, anything?"

"No. Just leave me alone." Natasha lay down and closed her eyes, felt burning tears squeeze out from under the lids. By the light of the fire she held up her wrist; even though it was dark, she could see only two runes remained.

Her lungs expanded, contracted – two bellows made of flesh still doing their job. What did they care she was broken, hurting, burning with fear and sadness! They would continue to drag air in and out, making her survive until – until she didn't have to any longer. That was all.

Just when she was about to get up and start searching the forest, she felt Loki come and lie next to her. Although the flames had subsided to glowing coals, she could make out his profile with the slightly hawkish nose, the arrogant lift of the chin. He pillowed his head on one arm and regarded the thorn trees overhead, but other than that there was no movement.

She waited until she thought he must be asleep. Carefully she moved out of the bedroll to steal away; she couldn't lie there any longer.

One long arm shot out and grasped hers. "Where are you going?" he whispered.

Natasha took a long, shuddering breath. "I can't lie here any longer or I'm going to lose my mind."

"By the Gods! I know exactly what you mean." He jumped up and held out his hand for hers. "Come."

He stalked into the darkness, towing her with him. At length she tugged on his hand, to slow him down. "Hey. Talk to me."

Loki stopped and faced her. Never had she seen him look so patrician, so severe. He might have been carved out of marble. "Well? Do you really wish to talk to me?"

"Wish?" Natasha lost the last thread of her temper. " _Wish?_  Now you have seen what I truly am. I know it, and now you know it as well. How did you enjoy that little display I just put on? Nice, wasn't it? Imagine that every week for six months. So - yeah, I wish a lot of things would happen, but probably none of them will come true. I'm a freak."

With a curse he pulled her into his arms. "A freak? I am …" He expelled a long breath. "I do not have the right to touch your hand, and yet here I am daring to hold you in my arms. All of this has been done to you because of me. I thought I knew the bounds of your courage, and yet you prove me wrong time and time again – tonight more so than ever."

She felt a sob go through his entire frame, and with a wild relief coursing through her she laughed shakily and pulled his head to rest in the crook of her neck. "I thought you would be disgusted – you would want me to release you from our vows. When you saw it, you were witness to what happened to me – on every level, right down to my cellular makeup. To my very atoms. No one else has seen that part of me – no one who still lives, at any rate."

Loki responded with a groan and kissed her neck wildly, panting with sorrow and near loss. "That you should have to go through it again, and on my account! I felt the shame pour through me like ice. I could not bear to face you."

"Shh," she said, stroking his hair. "Shh."

They stood, chest-to-chest, arms around each other for a long time simply feeling each other breathe before Loki raised his head with one of his characteristic quick gestures. "Behold a further example of my selfishness – when you should be asleep, darling."

The darkness swirled around them, and in a blink she found herself back in her blankets. Loki lay next to her, and when Natasha reached out she felt his fingers caress hers. "Rest now," he whispered.

"Okay, but I wanted to let you know the first rune is gone. It worked, Loki."

His smile was just visible by the dying embers. "That is something at least. A pair of trials more, and I shall be by your side every moment."

"You two might not wish to slumber, but some of us would enjoy the rest." Sif's voice, filled with exasperation, ended the conversation.

Her hand in his, Natasha fell into a dark sleep without any dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the wonderful comments and kudos! I send Loki hugs to you all.


	22. Thurisaz - Erotic Will

With a start, Natasha woke to a ray of sun in her eyes and Loki's hand still curled around her own. She carefully removed her fingers from his clasp and climbed out of the blanket, stifling a groan as she did; her entire body felt as though it had been beaten and tortured in a particularly severe torture session.

Jane was already awake, pouring out a little water on a cloth by one of the thorn trees. "May I have some of that?" Natasha asked as she rummaged for a toothbrush in her pack.

"Absolutely. Ooh, I have to tell you, girlfriend, you're looking a little rough." Jane handed over the water and rubbed Natasha's shoulder, concern ghosting in her eyes.

"I'm sure I do." Natasha washed quickly and dragged a comb through her curls. "Yesterday was hard - I'm not going to lie."

"Do you think the injection you received was real?" Jane shook her head. "I can't figure it out. The chemicals and isotopes used in the Red Room and on the Winter Soldier were top secret, according the SHIELD files. Plus, I thought all copies of the formulas as well as the lab notes were destroyed. So how could a witch on Asgard get hold of it? Unless she just tapped into your psyche and forced a mental image – which  _can_  be very powerful. Still, it all doesn't make sense."

Natasha held up her wrist to display the two remaining runes. "Yeah, and I've got two tats that'll kill me in a couple of days if I don't erase them somehow. That doesn't make sense either."

"I – I'm sorry." Jane looked down.

"No, you know what?  _I'm_  the one who's sorry." Natasha exhaled. "The injection is running through my system right now, making my hormones and moods go haywire. I nearly had a stupid emotional breakdown last night – totally out of character. You're just going to have to ignore anything I say or do for the next month and smack me if I come out with something totally ridiculous."

"May I see?" Jane reached for Natasha's wrist. "The Uruz rune reversed meant 'unexpected change, possibly for the better.' I'm going to hold onto hope that means you'll eventually be okay."

Making a dismissive gesture, Natasha was about to tell her it didn't matter and she had gone through far worse in the past, when they were interrupted by the sound of loud shouts from the makeshift camp. Jane and the Russian looked at each other, grimaced, and ran back to the fireside.

There, Sif and Loki were in the middle of a huge battle. "Clumsy, half-witted Aesir!" he fumed.

"Blockhead – in my way as usual! And do not think I have forgotten your little speech from the banquet, idiot. One false move on your part now and I shall separate your hand from your body."

"Here," he countered coolly, holding out his arm. "Draw your blade. You would do me a favour by doing so - it is no less than what I deserve."

" _Hey!"_  Natasha shouted. The two froze and as one, Loki and Sif regarded her. "Put down the sword for one minute.  _Now._  Loki, no one's getting any limbs chopped off today. Stop this right now, Sif, or I'll pelt you with the hilt of my own weapon. I had quite the evening yesterday, and by the way some kind of crazy shit is running through my veins, so for the moment what  _I_  say is law." She rounded on Loki, who was struggling to keep a straight face and hissed, "That goes for you, too. Close your mouth and make us some breakfast without any further arguments."

He burst into laughter, and she felt her lips twitch. "Agent Romanova!" he gasped. "You are simply magnificent even here in this godforsaken slum of a forest with dark magic binding you, and yet you still act as though you were on a throne…"

"Cut the romantics so early in the morning," Sif growled. "I'll slaughter us a rabbit, think on't."

Loki mimed retching into his hands. "We can do better than that." He waved one arm and with a shower of sparks produced a cloth laid with plates, bread, butter, honey, and something that smelled like eggs scrambled with mushrooms and bacon.

"Now you're talking my language!" Jane sniffed the meal with enthusiasm and sat down.

Even as she reached for her plate, Natasha eyed the door set into the huge, dark mound looming over Ironwood Forest. It resembled a squatting giant, shadowing the scene. "Any change yet?"

Swiftly Loki reached for her wrist to peer at it. "We should watch the door for Thurisaz this morning. As yet, that hole into Hel is unmarked, but as soon as it changes I will accompany you as I did yesterday."

"Thurisaz," Jane repeated, touching Natasha's second rune mark. "It represents Thorn and Giant. Is that right?"

Loki nodded, intent on Natasha's runes. "Exactly, and now it is no longer merkstave it means 'purging'. Also cleansing fire, and vital erotic will."

"Hm." Natasha slitted her eyes. "Doesn't sound too bad, as long as you don't go silent and weird on me again like you did last night. Can we all just agree to stay united, no matter what occurs today?"

"Agreed," Sif said instantly, holding forth her fist.

"I'm in." Jane touched Sif's fist with her own.

"I am as well." Loki leaned forward, and Natasha covered his hand with hers.

"This is good," she declared.

* * *

The day dragged on. Although Loki pounded on the door of the strange dwelling with his fists several times, it was impossible to enter. Breathing through his nostrils, he murmured something about giving Sleipnir a spot of exercise and stalked off. A few minutes later, Natasha heard hoof beats thundering away from the camp.

"We could work in some practice before we risk losing our minds with boredom," Sif offered. "Shall we take up our swords in friendship and as equals?"

"Yupper." Jane jumped up, and Natasha fetched her weapon. "Where were we before?"

"You were waving your weapon in front of your nose as though it were a fan," Sif smiled. "We shall work on that anon."

* * *

By the time Loki returned to camp, the three females were finishing the remains of the breakfast loaf. Sif was in the middle of recounting a warm tale of Urd's well, and the other two lay in stitches of laughter on the ground. "Oh, it hurts!" Natasha tried to push the sides of her mouth closed. "Sif, stop - you're killing me!"

"And the Valkyrie reached forth and asked, 'Where is the erect prick that stole into my bed? For I would confront it so I can slay the beast, but I would ride it first…'"

Despite himself, Loki felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "I see you are all having a constructive morning."

"Loki! Shit, you startled me." Natasha sobered and sat up. "We were practicing swordplay and got hungry. Bread?" She pulled open a piece of her loaf to present the soft, white interior to him with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Loki knelt, prowled forward on hands and knees, and took a bite straight from her slice with his teeth bared. His dancing eyes never left hers.

"Gods," Sif said with disgust. "Would you believe this display, Jane? They might as well be rolling in the dust at our feet as one beast with two backs."

But Jane wasn't listening. "Look," she breathed, pointing to the dwelling.

The rune had appeared on the door.

Natasha flung down the bread and jumped up. "Let's do this." At once Loki joined her and offered his forearm to accompany her into the dark pit.

"I suppose once more we cannot follow you inside." Sif's mouth went into a line, and her fine brows frowned over her eyes with disappointment.

Letting go of Loki's arm, Natasha pulled the astonished warrior into a tight hug. "I'll feel all the better knowing you and Jane will be waiting here for us. Wish us luck."

* * *

Inside, the same dark corridor greeted them. "Candles would not go amiss," Loki remarked.

"Careful or you might disturb the next stave. Magic is a balance, didn't you tell me that once? Any enchantment you perform could tilt the scales."

He nodded, considering. "It makes sense. Very well, I will abide with this dark hole. I must ask you – have you ever smelled anything so foul in all your days? When you and I reside in our castle, love, I will have flowers and fresh rushes strewn everywhere to make the air sweet."

"Plus more of those loaves," Natasha added. "Have you ever _smelled_  baking bread?"

His face spread in a huge smile as he looked down at her. "And apples when they are just picked and sliced open."

"Or freshly laundered linen."

"Or a newly picked lavender."

"Or really good coffee."

"Or your skin," Loki whispered, "after a tumble in the warm water with me." At that she stopped, and he felt her quiver next to him. "It has been years, darling, or so it seems," he pursued, unable to stop himself from kissing her neck and licking her earlobe.

She jumped, and his lips curved with mischief as a startled gasp came from the soft, sweet woman next to him. "Focus on the task ahead of us!" she hissed.

"Oh, I shall. However, I have always had the ability to do several things at once." Casually he stroked the soft skin of her collarbone with his thumb, feeling the goose bumps rise under his touch on her flesh. "In truth, it maddens me to be in the darkness here with you, alone, naught between us save a few scraps of silk and leather…"

"Loki, don't," she pleaded.

But he was starting to lose control of himself. Always so quick to awaken, his sensual side overtook him with a thrusting rush. Loki thought his breeches might burst with his huge erection, and he reached for the curve of her firm backside. "Valhalla, your smile this morning when you offered me a bite of your loaf! I nearly pinned you down right in front of your friends and had you there and then. Let me hold you next to me – where  _are_  you in the dark, darling? Where did you escape to? Come to the sound of my voice and let us rub our bodies together, just for a little while…"

"Loki!" Her scream died away and silence surged in its place.

With an oath he reached for her desperately. "Natasha!" he shouted. "Natasha! Where are you?" Blinded, he felt in the darkness for her hair, her waist. "Darling, do you hear me?"

The blackness seemed to press up on his lids. As before, a small light blinked ahead of him.

"Natasha?" Loki plunged forward, praying she was within the light of the lantern.

* * *

"Loki!" Natasha screamed. "Loki, where are you?"

She headed for the lantern, realizing she was probably walking straight into the next trap as she did so. No matter, she was determined confront it head on and find her lover as well.

The door opened and she looked inside. "Loki?"

There was a huge figure inside, but it was not him. "Lady Natasha." The figure spoke, and he turned around.

"Thor? What are you doing here?" Natasha raked up and down with her eyes. "Honey, you don't have any clothes on."

"What of that? Have you not longed for just a taste of what I can offer you?" The blond giant walked forward and reached for her waist with one huge, muscled arm. "No one has to know – it can be a secret between you and me only. See, just put your hand here and feel how large  _this_  muscle is. Let me bring you to Valhalla, Lady…"

Natasha was overcome with a fit of giggles, and she snatched her hand away. "You're going to have to do better than that," she gasped. " _Thor?_  Really? Lame, so lame. First, Jane is my friend, and second, I think of him as a brother. So, ew. Ew, ew, ew."

As she spoke, she realized she wasn't telling the entire truth. Often, in the Red Room, the injections made the subjects go crazy with lust a day after the treatments. Once she had fallen into bed with two men and another woman at once, all of them insane with hormonal desire after the effects had kicked in.

And now she felt her sex swell with want and slick, throbbing need. As Thor vanished, she almost sighed for the lost opportunity.  _Get it together,_  she counseled herself.  _You can do this._

A wisp of memory curled in her ear. "Erotic will," she whispered. "It's a test, and I will damn well pass it."

"Will you?" Another figure stepped from the shadows. "Oh, Natasha, I can taste your straining quim in the air. It's as though she's calling for me, darling."

Loki walked forward, the signature glint flashing in his eyes. As he walked his coat flapped open and she saw he was naked underneath. Natasha felt her knees grow weak at the sight; his dick was so hard it was almost purple. "Do you like this?" he whispered. "Or shall we have something a bit more dangerous?"

She moaned as his clothes disappeared altogether and were replaced by long kid gloves and dark stockings reaching to his thighs. "Woah," she gasped. "That's… different."

"Exactly so. This is quite nice, I like the display, it feels as though I am fully clothed and yet what counts is still naked. Although perhaps we need to add a collar and leash so you may lead me where you will it…" She found a braided loop in her hand attached to a thick band of leather around his neck.

Natasha licked her lips and tried to think. Something was wrong, but what it was she couldn't remember. "You – you aren't…" she stuttered.

"Are not what? Dressed for the occasion? But neither are you…"

She looked at herself. She was now in the same attire – long gloves reaching her shoulders, and stockings gartered at her thighs. There was nothing else except a wide belt, encircling her waist. "Oh, what did you do…?"

"This." Loki reached out, grasped the belt, and jerked her forward to stand between his legs.

She shook her head. "It's wrong."

"Mm. But so nice at the same time…" The soft leather of his gloves felt ecstatic as he caressed her trembling thighs and breasts.

His lips bit hers, and with one final burst of free will she tore away. "The box," she panted. "The box you gave me by the waterfall. What was its secret?"

Loki frowned, turned his head, and looked confused. "Secret! What do you mean?" A look of lusty need crossed his face, and he grinned. "There is only one box I want."

His hand fumbled for her, but she evaded him. "Clumsy. Very clumsy – you should do your research more thoroughly next time."

The Loki-vision disappeared, and the room filled with light. In front of her she saw another Loki – her own love, shouting and trying to escape as a skrull in the shape of herself tossed its red curls on his chest and tried to bite his neck. "Get off me, demon!" he bellowed. "You are not  _my_ Natasha!"

"You…!" Lips curling in fury, Natasha felt for the leash she still carried in her hand. It was attached to an empty collar, and with one motion she whipped it forward to catch the skrull in her form at its ankles.

The makeshift whip curled around the Natasha-vision's legs and was jerked back. Just as quickly, the skrull disappeared and the true Loki and Natasha faced each other.

For a moment neither of them said anything. His breathing slowed, and with his usual arrogance he looked down his nose while feeling for her wrist to hold it up. They both watched as the second rune melted and disappeared.

Natasha realized she had been holding her breath and she let it out with a whoosh. "Whew, that really sucked."

"Yes, I must agree. That really did 'suck'." Loki raised his eyebrows and took in her appearance. "I have to add I admire your new costume, though."

Natasha raised her chin and glared back at him. "If you think you are seducing me inside this troll hotel, think again. Get me into some decent clothes this minute, and let's get the hell out of here."

"What about balance of magic and … yes, very well. I am listening. However, at some later date I insist you wear this for me, and for me alone – and do not think I shall forget it." As he cast a spell and a new tunic with pants appeared on her body, Loki tilted his head curiously. "How did you work it out? That it was not me in reality just then?"

"Simple. I asked about box you gave me with my ring, and the false Loki didn't know the secret."

"Ah. Now, that  _is_  interesting - I also asked about the box. The skrull shaped like you had no idea, although I will not deny 'twas near impossible not to give in to her." He wound one arm around her waist. "Let us depart this place, darling. One last test, and very shortly I will have you in my own bed. A warning – I will not go lightly on you when that day comes."

"You better not," Natasha vowed.


	23. Hagalaz - Hail and Disease

"I'm worried about this one." Jane bent over the final mark on Natasha's wrist so closely her hair lapped the skin. "It seems different from the others, somehow."

"You may indeed be right." Loki sat apart from the fire with his long legs crossed at the ankles. "The first two were part of the Freya Aettir, but Hagalaz is …"

"Heimdall Aettir." Sif leaned forward with interest. "It is one of the runes belonging to my brother's legends. Will it change the test?"

"Could do. And it is not only that – Hagalaz cannot be reversed, although it can be held in opposition. Therefore, essentially we are working with the same rune although it has been returned to Futhark position."

"I see what you mean, Loki." Natasha held her wrist up to the fire, to look at it more clearly. "It looks the same whether reversed or not. Any theories about what I'll have to face?'

"What  _we_  will have to face, you mean? And it represents Hail and Disease, also uncontrolled forces within or without – the weather, or a storm within one's unconscious." Loki glanced at the troll's mound as he spoke.

"Hm." Natasha slitted her eyes, thinking. "By the simple rule of Threes, we are about to encounter the hardest test. And not only that, I have noticed a similarity between them, and I'm certain you did as well…"

"Of course." Loki made one of his hasty, impatient gestures. "The trials are designed to separate us, to make us angry with each other. It was e'er what Angrboda did best – got me enraged to the point I took it out on others."

Jane caught Natasha's eye, seemed about to ask a question, and subsided. "I really can't talk about the second trial," Natasha stated. "It was silly, stupid, and actually rather easy in the end, but it did make me think about things I'd rather not."

"And me as well. It is burning me  _not_  to ask what you saw there, Natasha." Loki's eyes glittered, and she shushed him.

"I think we need to agree, as we all did earlier, that we shall stay united no matter what happens. If we argue amongst ourselves or with each other, it uses strength we could otherwise employ against our common enemy."

He nodded. "Wisely put, and for once I will listen to wisdom. However, when I catch that foul Troll Witch between my hands, I will throttle her in the slowest manner possible and pull out her entrails one by one."

"You shall have to get past me to her first," Sif cautioned.

* * *

The air felt brittle with tension as though a lightning storm were imminent. Once the conversation descended into bickering about what might or might not occur the next day, Natasha declared it was time for bed. Loki lay close to her, stroking her shoulders, kissing her fingertips, fingering one long curl. They stared into each other's eyes, feeling the weight of their desire hang between them.

He raised one eyebrow and she shook her head. His eyes closed briefly and the white line above his lips tightened.

She wove her fingers with his, trying to make him understand.  _Yes I want you,_  she was trying to say,  _but not in this place._

Softly he leaned over, nipped her cheek with his teeth, and whispered into her ear, "As soon as I get you back to the Palace there will be no more excuses."

"I know." Natasha edged closer and pillowed her head on his shoulder in the place where she fit perfectly as though it had been created for her. "Loki, I know."

* * *

"Natasha!" Sif shook her shoulder and pointed to the mound. "I think you will want to see this."

Shaking off the cobwebs of sleep, Natasha disentangled herself from Loki's arms and climbed out of the bedroll. "What is it?"

"Look." Sif pointed to the mound. The Hagalaz rune glowed on the door in lurid red, like a slash of blood across the dark dwelling's front.

"Loki." Natasha smacked his shoulder, and with one move he opened his eyes, threw back the covers, and vaulted towards the door.

"This does not bode well." His hand to his lips, Loki considered the glowing mark. "As I said before, this test may well be very different from the other two, not only for us but for you as well, Sif and Jane."

"Good!" Sif's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "By my troth, I am ready for a spot of action and the sound of steel. However, you will need to stay by my side, Jane. You progress with your swordplay, but I would not pit you in a battle yet."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about me. I do have my fist, and believe it or not sometimes quick wits can outweigh the sharpest sword."

Raising his brows in surprise, Loki bowed to Jane. "This is well said, and I must add I agree with you."

* * *

Although no one wanted much to eat, Natasha insisted on a wash and change of clothes before approaching the sinister dwelling. "The last one," she reminded them.

"Indeed it is, and we shall take it as we did the others – together." Loki offered her his arm.

She took it, feeling the strength of muscle underneath her fingertips. "Let's do this."

Jane and Sif accompanied them to the door. As Natasha opened it, the handle seemed to squirm as she touched it as though it were alive. "Ugh!" she exclaimed, stifling the desire to wipe her hand on her tunic. "This place gets worse by the minute…"

She cut off her speech with a shocked curse; in front of them within the open door lay the glowing Bifrost. The bridge sparkled within the dark, dreary space. "Can you see that?" she asked Jane.

But it was Sif who answered. "Yes, we can. It makes some sense, if you are now confronting the Hagalaz rune and a Heimdall Aett. In truth, I doubt Jane and I will be able to join you." She was proved right in a moment; once again only Loki and Natasha were able to enter the dwelling.

"We'll be back as soon as we can!" Natasha turned towards the rainbow bridge and squared her shoulders. "This is it," she added.

"Midgard, I suppose, although we could find ourselves in the wastes of Jotunheim. Either way, Angrboda is certain to have demon spew awaiting us." He bound her to his side with his arm, and they walked forward together.

* * *

They appeared on Earth as Loki foretold, on the pavements of what seemed to be a European city. Natasha looked around and frowned. "I recognize this place, but it has been a long time…" A couple passed them, chattering and gesticulating, and her brow cleared. "They're speaking Lithuanian. I would guess we are in Klaipeda, the port city."

Loki looked around and encountered a few curious gazes in their direction. "I do not mind being the centre of attention," he groused, "but perhaps it would be best to be less obvious."

"Can you conjure us up some modern clothes?" Natasha asked.

He drew her into a side alley, waved one arm, and frowned. "No. It appears my magic did not follow me here."

"Crap. I might have known. Oh, well – we'll just have to access your other magic – those computer skills of yours."

"But how can we do that without a device?" he argued.

"Allow me to introduce you to the concept of internet cafes."

* * *

A few hours later, armed with ATM cards and cash, Loki squired Natasha to a small shop off the main drag. There he chose her slim jeans, a simple soft shirt, and a pair of pumps with extremely high heels. "What's up with those?" she asked, pointing to the shoes.

"Everyone wears them here. Have you not noticed?"

She glanced around. "Yes, I suppose you're right. OK, let's go find you some duds, both of us some weapons, and we'll rent a room for the night."

"Oh?" He looked confused. "You only have eighteen hours and fifty-three minutes by my reckoning before our time is up to remove the last rune. As much as I would like to spend it with you in a bed somewhere…"

"We have to establish a base of operations, silly," she explained.

"Oh, yes. Of course."

* * *

Once they acquired weapons and clothes for him, Natasha and Loki left the shopping area. Imbued with a sense of urgency he pulled her hand to walk faster, and as they flew along he scanned the streets with brows like thunder descending over his darkened eyes. "What is the task?" he ground out between his teeth. "We cannot be meant to wander these streets like a pair of foolish travelers."

"Here." Natasha tugged his hand and pointed to the small B&B in front of them. "Take a look."

Loki's expression cleared as he read the sign:  _"Hagalaz Inn."_ They entered, and the man within gave them a key to their room. As they prepared to head up the small step that smelled of cabbage, he cleared his throat and made a beckoning gesture.

Loki strode up to him and held out a sheaf of bills. "Ką?" he asked.

The proprietor grinned, rummaged in a mail slot, and gave Loki a grubby envelope. His meaty palm stayed open as though he expected more; Loki threw another few bills into the man's hand and steered Natasha up the stairs by her elbow.

When they reached the room, Loki locked the door before ripping open the letter. "What is it?" Natasha wrapped her arms around him from the back and looked at the paper.

"An address and a time. Let us see what it is." Quickly he punched the words into the phone he had bought during their shopping trip and waited. "A place called a dance club," he added when the information came up on the screen. "Good thing I added a few things to your shopping, darling."

"Did you now!" Natasha dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed and sorted through them. "Oh, I see." She held up a short dress with a plunging neckline in silver. "Wow, perv much? This could fit into your pocket."

"I adore you in silver – you know that already." Loki winked at her outrageously. "Put it on, darling."

"Meanwhile, you get to wear jeans and sensible shoes.  _So_  not fair." Natasha put her tongue out at him but was already pulling off her shirt and boots.

* * *

The club was crowded with tourists and pretty local girls, all drinking heavily and dancing to a pulsing beat. Loki looked startled when he heard the loud music; the volume was high enough to blast their eardrums.

Natasha shrugged and pulled him onto the dance floor. "We should probably cause a bit of a scene," she said in his ear. "Follow my lead."

"Scene?" The next moment Loki's eyes popped as Natasha started to undulate towards him, pumping her hips in time to the music. Lazily she curled one arm around his neck and straddled his thigh, thrusting into his pelvis. "Natasha, what are you doing?!"

"It's called dancing. Quite different from a Hringr, isn't it?"

Loki raised one eyebrow. "Why not simply go to a bedroom and fornicate? I do not understand."

"That's the whole point. You hang out and dance to extend the evening and make it more exciting."

"Ah." He nodded. "I see now." His arms encircled her waist and pulled her closer, teasing her back above the impossibly low neckline of the dress. Smoothly he spun her out, caught her again, and lifted her up to straddle him as they grinded each other in a sexy, languid rhythm. "Natasha – I like this!"

She laughed at him and bit his neck. "Yeah, I can tell. Mr. Mischief just made an appearance."

"How much of a 'scene' do you wish to make?" Loki clutched her hair, pulled her in for a long kiss.

"Mmm, that's good. More tongue though – and make it obvious." Instantly he licked her lips, pulled her flush up to his erection with a firm grasp on her derriere.

"It occurs to me there is a side of you I do not know," he said slowly in her ear.

"I thought the same about you the second time I arrived in Asgard," she replied. "When I saw you riding with Thor, it felt as though I were interfering with your other life…"

"No." Roughly he cupped her chin and drew her in for another long kiss. "We have to mingle those previous lives, and from their threads create a new one together."

"You have caught a pretty bird." A harsh voice interrupted their conversation. "May we join the dance?" One man stood next to them, eyeing Natasha's legs in the crazy shoes.

Loki's eyes flashed with a murderous glare, but Natasha squeezed his hand. "How about drinks instead?" she asked in a newly high-pitched, breathy voice.

The man, dressed in a black silk shirt and shiny leather jacket, pulled the corners of his mouth down in a considering way and led them to a padded alcove lined with pillowed sofas. There were several girls there already, one half-asleep. The man shouted at them to move, and the women got up and disappeared.

"What is your name?" The man leaned forward and stroked Natasha's knee. "I am Leonid, but my friends know me as Leo."

"Her name is Natalia,  _Leonid."_  Loki snapped.

"How much?" 'Leo' let his eyes devour Natasha's chest, and he licked his lips.

"Too expensive for you." Loki looked away, as though he were finished with the conversation, but Natasha pulled on his collar to bring him in for another kiss.

"Ask him if he has any to trade," she whispered.

His jaw popping with rage, Loki made the request in a strangled voice. Leo's eyes brightened. Without a further word he rose, gestured for them to follow, and let the way to the steps at the back of the club.

Natasha felt Loki's hand on her waist, possessive and threatening. "If he looks at you again I will slit his throat," he hissed when they rounded the corner.

"He's a moron. As soon as I see what he's got upstairs we'll take care of him together – don't let your jealousy ruin the case."

"Quarrels?" Leo asked. He stopped at the top of the stairs and let loose a long wheezing laugh; Natasha nearly fainted from the smell of his breath.

"No, Leo," she giggled. "Is this where you live?"

"Baby, this is just one of my many hangouts." Leo produced a key and opened a door on the left of a short corridor. "So, you would like to see available girls for trade?" He nudged Loki with one elbow and burst out into a long guffaw. "For her, perhaps you pick up two, three songbirds." The man slid one arm around Natasha's waist and pawed her breasts with his other hand.

"Now?" Loki asked through gritted teeth. Obviously he was ready to murder Leonid.

"Now," Natasha agreed. She slammed her elbow into Leo's chin, and Loki's dagger was instantly at the man's neck.

"How about this? How about I remove your eyes  _and_ fingers for daring to touch this goddess, and you tell me what is hidden here inside these rooms?" Loki's dagger sliced into the man's throat, and a line of red appeared above his Adam's apple.

"How about you hand her over to me with the contents of your pockets?" Leo whistled and a blond woman burst in with two guns trained on Loki and Natasha.

"Petrovitch?" the blonde demanded. "Are you Petrovitch? We have lost enough goods to that group. We have back-up on the roof and in the street – neither of you will leave here unless you go with us." Her eyes raked Loki's slim figure and long black hair. "And  _you_  look like an exotic addition to our menu."

Natasha caught Loki's glance and looked at the window. "Petrovitch? No, we're not. But I am bored of you and this idiot." With one sudden flip she caught one gun with the toe of her shoe and sent it spinning out of the woman's grip. Loki's elbow slammed into the female's gut and she went down, waving her pistol above her head.

Natasha picked off the pistol and threw it to Loki. "Now, I believe my friend here asked you a question. Where are the other women you have hidden away?" When Leo didn't respond, she slammed her knee into his groin and jammed her elbow into his cheek, snapping his face sideways.

Loki had already flipped the woman, crossed her wrists, and tied her up with his belt. Natasha bashed Leo's head once more and retrieved the guns. "Nice work, MIschief," she grinned. "Now, where is the cache?"

"Pardon me, but the lady asked about your hidden cache. She may be patient, but I am not." Loki casually flipped his knife and held the tip under Leo's eye.

"There." Sweating, the man pointed at a blank wall, and Natasha nodded.

"OK, I can see the outline of the door. On three?" As she counted they kicked in the hidden entrance. The wall, made of cheap wallboard, caved in to reveal a sordid, filthy room. It was lined with several stained mattresses and illuminated by a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling; by its light Natasha could see several young females and one small girl cowering in a corner. They were all covered with bruises and smelled of urine and despair.

"All is well," she said to them in Lithuanian. "We are here to help you escape and get back to your families."

"Petrovitch?" The girl with her arm around the child looked up with something like hope in her eyes. "Are you Petrovitch?"

Loki and Natasha looked at each other; she shrugged. "Perfect," he said in a deeply satisfied tone. "We have completed the task and, if I'm not mistaken…" Carefully, as though he could hardly dare to look, Loki lifted Natasha's wrist. However, the last rune was still there, and he added a few villainous curse words. "Keep on your guard, darling – there  _must_  be more to this than we know. We need to return to Asgard as soon as possible so Jane and perhaps my mother may examine this mark."

"Just as soon as we get these women to safety," Natasha said.

"Of course." Loki punched something into his phone screen and nodded. "The local guards - I suppose you would say police - will be on their way in minutes to arrest the two in there. I presume they will also take care of those females and the child. And, pet, if we are lucky Heimdall will whisk us directly back to the palace instead of that hole in Ironwood…"

"But we can't just walk out on these prisoners!" Natasha argued. "I think they were already compromised once, thanks to my inability to find a head for the Foundation you gave me." She added a quick question in Lithuanian to one of the women, and instantly they responded with a voluble burst of words, accompanied by many hand gestures and interruptions from the others.

"They will be perfectly fine. I will give them all the money we have left, and they can go and take the proper transportation to their homes. I do not see the problem." Loki's brows twitched together. "And the last few precious hours of your life are running like sand through a glass. We  _cannot_  tarry any longer."

"There's much more to it than that! They need a safehouse and…"

"I care about your life and safety _,"_  Loki growled into her ear. "Why should we worry about mere mortals?"

Natasha felt as though someone had just slammed her face into a brick wall. She stepped away from him and said in a cold, deadly tone, "What did you just say to me?"

"They are mere… Oh, I see." Loki reached for her hand, but she avoided him. "Darling," he added, throwing down his phone in exasperation, "of course I didn't mean you. Natasha, you are clever and strong, more so than any of the goddesses in Asgard."

"That is because of that black shit they injected into my veins for the most part. Are you telling me you can put up with me because I was biologically modified?" Her nostrils flared. She wanted to throw herself out the window, to pump him full of bullets.

"No! Stop this!" Loki breathed out and ran his hands through his hair. "Natasha, remember what we promised each other earlier? That these tests were designed to separate us, to make us question ourselves and each other?"

She stopped, her mouth open in an O. "Angrboda," she and Loki said at the same time.

As they spoke the name, there was a loud rumble of thunder. Loki caught his breath and reached for her, but it was already too late. His figure wavered and grew dim. In a moment he disappeared altogether.

Natasha screamed and punched the wall; her fist went right through the thin plaster. As angry and hurt as she was, she wanted him back – but she also knew there was nothing she could do about it at that moment. In any case, she still needed to help the women in the room. Quickly she picked up the phone from one of the disgusting mattresses and patched through to the Petrovitch Foundation. When she gave her name, there was a quick consultation, a series of beeps. After a minute, a woman answered. "Hello? This is Anzhela Romanoff."

"Anzhela. This is…"

"Ohmigosh!" Always voluble, her niece started to scream with excitement; Natasha heard pounding over the phone, as though the girl were jumping up and down. "It's so good to hear from you! This job is – woah. It's just beyond. I mean – we're doing so much good, you know? And the Foundation is brill – the way it was set up is just…"

"Listen. I have a situation here. Can you help?" Briefly Natasha described where she was.

"Did you say Lithuania?" Anzhela broke off and gave a series of terse orders to someone in the room. "Holy cow, I think you found the compromised women we've been seeking for weeks now. Don't worry – I'll have someone there in an hour. Cops, medics, support, whatever the victims need."

"Wait." Feeling like a fool, Natasha knew she had to ask the question. "I knew the Foundation was set up to run smoothly, but…"

"It's amazing! Serious genius. We're helping more people every day, and with SHIELD we're starting to shut down the other end as well. Imagine if we could be the generation to eradicate sex slavery."

"Suppose," Natasha asked slowly, "the person who designed the Foundation was a criminal himself. Suppose he said some things that were hurtful and hateful. What would you think about that?"

There was a long pause. "Perhaps you need to look at the bigger picture," Anzhela said at last. "Maybe it's not always what you say but what you do. Anyone who creates a work of art like this – and who did it for  _you -_  am I right? – has got to have a good side. At least, that's what I believe."

"Right." Natasha exhaled. The relief running through her was like a warm fireplace after a long day in the rain. "Yes, that makes sense. Thanks so much, Anzhela – for everything."

* * *

Once the women were evacuated and the would-be slavers taken out in handcuffs, Natasha stumbled out onto the street. The sun was just starting to rise, sending long streaks of red into the tortured sky. There was nowhere in that realm for her to be – even her flat at Stark Tower was gone, now home to Anzhela and, probably, Clint Barton. She had no job, no money, and not even Thor to turn to and take her back to where she wanted to be.

She headed to the docks, using her nose as a guide to tell her where the water was. Perhaps there she could find a quiet spot and a moment of privacy.

The wharfs were deserted, she noted with relief, except for a few drowsy workmen, getting off a last shift from a ship. Natasha found an empty square, looked around, and closed her eyes. "Heimdall, it's time," she whispered.

Nothing moved. Nothing changed. The ship at the dock hooted its horn – a long, lonely sound.

Natasha flung her head back at the sky. "Do you hear me? Heimdall?" She looked at the final mark on her wrist and sank onto the pavement, wondering how much time she had left before the final runic mark destroyed her. "Heimdall?"

The horn went on and on, wailing through the early dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos and notes. You are wonderful reviewers and writers - and I'm so glad I've met you here!


	24. Time Travel

"Something's wrong," Jane insisted.

"What else would you expect? The Bifrost has appeared in the middle of a dustheap, which sits in the centre of a pisspot. The entire situation is wrong, and I only hope Natasha has the sense to survive it." Sif spoke with strident anger, probably because she felt frustrated.

"You are exactly right, but there's a lot more to it than that. I'm pretty sure the mere fact of this final test will impact us here in Asgard as well." Jane went to one of her saddlebags, piled on the floor of the forest, and plucked out a scroll. She unrolled it to study the map within, her forehead crinkling.

"What do you mean?" Sif stalked across the clearing to join her.

"If there is an Einstein-Rosen bridge here-" Jane pointed to the map at the spot where they stood, "it could set off a chain reaction within the entire realm. I have noticed that time is unstable in some areas – a lot of places, actually - in Asgard. It's how I reached you and Natasha in the forest. Remember?"

"Set off? Chain reaction?"

Muttering more to herself than Sif, Jane traced a few lines on the map. "I don't think we've gotten quite into Church-Turing territory, although I do suspect there could be a universal quantum device within Asgard. The Tesseract, perhaps? In any case, if enough qualiphobes are affected by the anomaly, we should definitely be prepared for…"

"Jane!" Sif thundered. "You might as well be speaking the language of the Jotunns to me. I have not the slightest idea of what your words say."

The scientist got up and brandished the map under Sif's nose. "Simply put," she snapped, "because of the troll's version of the Bifrost in that compost heap over there, Asgard could fall apart and disintegrate into the void." A rumble punctuated her statement, and the ground shook underfoot.

"Is this it?" Sif looked around wildly. "Are we about to enter Valhalla? Well, I am prepared, but I do wish I could have slain a few more bilgesnipe first."

"No!" Jane seized both the warrior's arms. "We  _can_  stop it, but I have to get back to the Palace. If we can reach the All-Father's council room and access his map of the realm as well as a few Norn stones, I can rearrange the energies so we are back in balance." The ground shook again, and the scientist nearly fell.

Sif steadied her. "How can we do that? It is a two-day ride even if we travel through the night!"

"Ah." Jane tapped her map. "Not if we go via my route."

"Ah!" A look of comprehension crossed Sif's face. "But can you ride that quickly?"

"I was thinking we should perhaps double up on Sleipnir."

"And what of the other mounts?"

"They are from Asgard," Jane concluded triumphantly. "They'll follow when they're told."

* * *

Not stopping to pack, Sif and Jane leapt onto the back of the surprised Sleipnir. Jane clutched the warrior's armour as the steed reared, neighed, and immediately sprang into a gallop at a touch of the warrior's heels. "And you want to head  _away_  from the Palace?" Sif shouted. "Are you certain?"

"Yes! Aim for a dark void. You'll see it in a few minutes." Jane wrapped both arms around Sif's waist and ducked her head so it wouldn't get taken off by the branches overhead.

"Yonder!" Sif pointed, and they approached a cave at a blistering pace. Jane could just hear the other horses behind them.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Sleipnir plunged into the gloom. Although the ground seemed murky underfoot, the horse put his head down and increased his speed as Sif whispered to him. "This is a fine adventure!" the warrior laughed. "Although I think we might be running along an underground cliff. Take care, Sleipnir, lest you dash our brains into the rocks or tumble us over the edge."

Jane shuddered as another rumble in the ground shook the trail ahead, and she hid her head against Sif's shoulder. When she looked up, they were approaching a point of light. Sure enough, the three mounts were running along the side of a cliff – the cavern had some kind of fall-in, and the passage through the tunnel was separated in two, so they just had enough room to maneuver. One peek told her that the fall over the side of the road would be immense – the darkness below seemed almost as deep as the Void.

Before she had time to shout she couldn't do it, that they needed to stop and turn back, Sleipnir shot into the light. The other horses followed soon after, and Sif stopped them for a break.

They were in the mountains, near the sea of Marmora and close enough to the plain of Ida to see the edge of the forest. "Perfectly done!" Sif crowed. "A day's ride will have us at the gates of the Palace."

"We don't have time for that," Jane gasped. "I need you to negotiate another time twist. There's one nearby, but it will mean doing something really crazy…"

"Excellent." Sif turned to give Jane a brilliant smile. "More adventure! You know, we may have had our differences in the past, but I find I like you."

"I like you too, Sif." Jane couldn't help giggling, although she was worried about what they were about to ride into.

"So, where anon? Another cavern?"

"Nope." Jane pointed at the Sea of Marmora. "We ride into the waves, just there. And we have to time it perfectly, too, depending on the tides and roll of the waves. The water is heavier here in Asgard, which I have to account for, but I think I have the physics figured out…"

"Art thou a lunatic?" Sif twisted completely around in the saddle and gave her a long stare. "I take back my liking. You have lost your wits if you think we can ride the mounts straight through the surf."

"If my reasoning is right, we will only be wet for a few moments." Jane arched an eyebrow and added, "Are you nervous?"

In answer, Sif headed Sleipnir towards the sands. "By the Gods, you are a cool customer. I have seen many a titled commander crumble before such conditions. Very well, tell me what to do."

Jane scanned the horizon and nodded. "See that dark line there in the water? That's where we need to go. It's a timeslip, and if we hit it just right between the waves we can make it in one end and get propelled straight past the Gopul River to the entrance of the capital. It's a bit like swordplay – we'll have to time our charge between the waves. Do you see?"

"I suppose I do. We'll have to make certain the other mounts follow us, so we shall have to take that into account."

"Yes, good point. Okay, see how there is a dip between the waves? We're lucky since they take longer here – heavy water and all that. We'll have to head straight for it and time our run through the sand to hit the low trough after a tall crest. Are you ready?"

"Aye." Sif's eyes were sparkling as she prepared for the adventure. "This will be something to tell our descendants, eh?" She paused and added in a low voice, "And if we do not emerge on the other side, I am proud to have ridden into death by your side. You have proven your mettle in trial by fire, and the Lady Sif will vouch as much to anyone. Here and now I offer my apology for saying you were concerned only with a husband and children."

Touched, Jane squeezed Sif's waist. "And I'm sorry I said the things I did when I first arrived. There's no one I'd rather be with here than you after all we have been through together."

"Not Thor?" Sif's look never wavered.

Jane grinned. "Thor would surge straight into the waves without waiting for my explanation and I would get water up my nose."

Sif flung back her head in a long shout of laughter. "Yes! I can just picture his surprised face when he sinks in his armour…"

"…And spits out a fish in the bargain!"

The two ladies collapsed, startling Sleipnir; Jane couldn't help a snort of laughter which made Sif explode with loud humour. At last they could barely breathe, having reached the point where all they had to do was look at each other to lose it all over again.

Their mirth was stopped by another long rumble. Jane sobered first and indicated the waves. "We must go, now."

"Very well." Sif leaned over the bridle and headed Sleipnir towards the waves of Marmora. "Charge forward, sweet mounts, for Asgard!"

"For Asgard!" Jane echoed. The next minute they were volleying across the sand, straight into the water.

The surf reached their knees and Sleipnir neighed frantically. Then they were under the waves, riding for a hole in the water. The horses swam for it, and in a moment they were in a tunnel, surrounded by blue water.

The stallion shook back his mane, spraying both Jane and Sif. "This will make a fine tale," the warrior exulted. "Sleipnir's Ride, perhaps it will be called – you and I shall be famous, Lady Jane!"

"Just look at this water tunnel," Jane marveled. "It's held back by some force – but how? I'd love to be able to study it…and check out those fish! Surely no one ever saw such …"

She was unable to finish her sentence. The tunnel closed in, and the next minute they and the horses were striding out of the surf, at the point of water where the docks met the capital.

* * *

At the Palace, Sif and Jane hurried to the council room, completely drenched. Odin's heavy brows descended at the sight of two very wet ladies, but when he tried to wave them out Sif interrupted. "There is a danger afoot. Indeed you must listen to Lady Jane."

"Lady Jane?" Thor rose at the sound, his face filling with joy. "My love, at last! I thought you had somehow escaped back to Midgard – I nearly lost my wits with worry."

"Between you and Loki it has been a day for rising emotions," Queen Frigga declared. "He has stormed off to his dungeon after his sudden arrival from Midgard, and you turned the entire capital into a thunderhead of gloom…"

"Your majesties, I must interrupt. If we do not turn the time tide recently unleashed by the witch Angrboda, the entire realm could fall apart." Jane strode up to the All-Father and held out her hands. "I must reset the Norns now before the time channels fall in on themselves."

"Let it descend," a voice sneered from the door. Loki stood there, his face pale and his eyes filled with despair. "My Natasha is taken from me and her last few minutes of life approach out of my reach to help her, so why should anyone have any happiness at all? May the entire realm fall into the Void, as I have done, and we can all experience the joys of working for Thanos together."

"We cannot access Natasha at this point in time, according to Heimdall. I already explained it to you when you first arrived back, Loki." Queen Frigga spoke in a calm voice, but there was an undercurrent of worry in her voice.

"But that's what I'm talking about!" Jane turned to Loki. "If Natasha is still in Midgard, Frigga is right - she can't travel back here now while the time twists are unbalanced. If I can reset the Norns, we could reach her and return her to Asgard,  _and_  save the realm in the bargain. And by the way, I could sorely use your help."

"Is this true?" A small light of hope kindled in Loki's eyes. "I felt the rumbling in the mountains and from the Enchanted Forest when I returned…"

"Yes. It was from the Bifrost the witch created within Ironwood, when you opened the Hagalaz rune." Jane nodded.

"She created a Bifrost?" Frigga jumped down and ran to the table where the maps of the Nine Realms were set out. "Odin, this would mean the end of all we hold dear – another Ragnorak. We must listen to Lady Jane and see if we can rebalance the realm now, as she says."

Odin still frowned, but after a moment he nodded. Jane exhaled a long breath of relief, dashed forward to catch Loki's hand, and pulled him to the maps. "Here," she said. "This is where the twist first started breaking down, so it would best serve to triangulate the Norns at this point…"

* * *

Sif watched Jane bend over the maps, her head close to those of the Queen and Loki. Thor hovered nearby, trying to steal a look over their shoulders.

The warrior maiden had faced many enemies – Frost Giants, dragons, invading hordes from Muspelheim. She had traversed the Sea of Fear, and yet she felt cold terror run through her veins at what she was about to do.

However, there was no other choice. She eyed the All-Father as he scowled intently at the three clustered over the Realms, and approached him. "All-Father Odin, a word if I may," she asked.

He made a gesture that could have been a No or a Yes. Sif decided to proceed. "Your Majesty, over the past few days I have toiled at the side of Lady Jane. She was unflinching in the face of terror, and indeed our passage home today would never have happened if it had not been for her. In faith, if Asgard stands this hour, 'twill be due to her efforts and none other."

"What is the point of this?" Odin asked. "I take it you are trying to recommend Jane to me, but why?"

"I think you know why." Sif's voice grew very quiet.

Odin's gaze softened, and he reached to brush her cheek with one hand. "I had always thought you loved…"

She tilted up her chin. "Perhaps what I want is not in the balance of things. I only mean to present Jane's case now – that in this instance, perhaps sword-fighting and being a knight are not all. Perhaps there are other considerations – in this  _only_ , you understand. And," she added, "if Fandral or Hogun ever come to hear of these words I speak, my life might as well be finished at that moment."

He smoothed his beard. "Your own actions were not to be glossed over, I am certain."

"Perhaps. I live to fight for Asgard, as you know. However, this day I saw another serve our realm just as fiercely as ever I did, and at times even more so." She stood very straight and tall, her eyes not wavering from his direct stare.

"Your words do you credit…" Odin was cut off by a triumphant shout from the group around the maps.

"We have it!" Thor grinned, his entire face lighting up. "My lady has rebalanced the Norns, and Asgard is saved!" He picked up Jane off her feet, swung her in a circle, and pulled her close for a long embrace.

"And now what of  _my_  betrothed?" Loki demanded in a deadly voice. "The stones are set and Asgard is safe. But what of Natasha, my life and my love? Get her back for me, now!"

The queen approached and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "My command to Heimdall stays. She will be returned here the instant she wishes – but she must ask it first. We have no other choice."

Sif regarded at her old enemy. Loki's eyes, pale with anger and frustrated desire, flicked to the massive entrance of the room.

"Loki, does she still wear the ring I saw on her finger? The silver spiral with the moonstone?" Freya stepped down from the dais to stand in front of the prince. "If so, perhaps I can send a message to her - the moon is my purview, as you know."

Loki eyed the goddess of love warily. "Why would you do this for me?"

"I am not doing this for you. I was rather taken with the Lady Natasha - she spoke honourably when you both visited my rooms. And," she added with a laugh, "the emerald diadem you gave me  _is_  very becoming."

He leaned forward and put one hand on Freya's shoulder. "Yes! I will do anything if you can rescue her - we have only seconds left. Please."

Freya closed her eyes, concentrated for a moment, and smiled. "It is done. But now, as Queen Frigga states, we have to see what happens next. She must be the one who requests it - we have done all we could here."

Loki opened his mouth, shut it with a snap, and released the goddess of love. His brow black as thunder, the prince paced the area in front of the dais like a caged tiger.

There was nothing else to do. They simply had to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sandram1 for the lovely comment! It has been my honour to write these stories for all my readers.


	25. Green Wedding

The clouds overhead thickened. Natasha, still sitting on the sidewalk in the deserted square, realized it was about to pour. Cursing, she pulled out her phone; it was time to take action instead of moping on her own dressed in a ridiculous silver dress and platform shoes.

She dialed a number she would never forget – the one to take her straight to Hill's desk. After one ring, the agent picked up.

"Natasha?" Hill said.

"I suppose Anzhela told you I was at this number." Natasha squinted as the rain started in earnest and pushed back her hair. "Are there any agents nearby?"

"Of course. I can have someone there in fifteen minutes – I'm texting you the contact now. Do you need ammunition, back-up, any support?"

"No." Natasha took a breath. "I need… I need…" There were no words for what she needed.

"Listen." Hill hesitated. "For this one time only, I want to say one thing that has nothing to do with SHIELD. I've always admired you, because you are ultra-professional without sacrificing your emotional side. I have seen you subjugate your emotions when you've had to, but underneath I have the feeling there is an extremely passionate person, just below the surface."

Natasha held the phone with both hands as though it were her last means of life support. "But I've always admired  _you,"_  she argued. "Your entire life is SHIELD – there are no questions in your mind when it comes to that. Your duty is always your first priority."

There was another long pause. At last Maria said, "Maybe that's not such a good thing." There was the sound of a pencil tapping on a desk, as though the agent was thinking deeply. "Contact the Lithuanian support now – if you want to. As I say, they'll arrive in fifteen minutes."

The phone clicked, and Natasha looked at the screen. A message had popped into her inbox, and once opened it revealed a European mobile number.

Her finger hovered over the link. A single touch and she could escape to her old life – to a world of Kevlar, guns, vodka, anonymous hotel rooms, her specific skill set…She could have all of that back, unless the final rune on her wrist dispatched her first.

The rain made her shiver. Natasha clasped her hands around the phone and pressed her arms to her chest; the moonstone in her ring dug against her chin. In front of her, almost between the silver raindrops, she saw a beautiful face smile back at her - the vision of a goddess.  _Love hurts,_ Freya seemed to say, _but it is no less of a miracle for all that. The mere fact of desiring the best for someone else simply because they complete you - out of all the generations in all nine realms! - of finding them, and loving them - that is enough of a miracle. It is the strongest kind of magic._

She bowed her head and wrapped the hand wearing the ring around her Helm of Awe necklace. "Heimdall, I'm going to ask one more time. If you don't answer, I'll assume it's in the cards for me to stay here and work it all out on my own, or just die right here in the middle of Eastern Europe." She lifted her chin and added, "I really would like one last chance to kick Loki's ass. Could you give me that opportunity? Please return me to Asgard, if only for a day."

Her eyes squeezed shut against the curious stare of a passing tourist, splashing past under a wilting umbrella. He and his wife, two elderly people from Akron, stared as the girl in the silver dress was enveloped in a funnel of wind and disappeared. "Must have been that grappa," the wife said. "Let's head back to the hotel, Vance – I need to lie down."

* * *

Her ears were filled with the sound of cheers. A crowd of people lined the long avenue that led to the Palace, shouting praise for someone who had just delivered Asgard from obliteration.

"What happened?" Natasha wrung out the rain from her skirt and spoke to a young woman at her side.

"Nay, do not know all t'details, but must be that pair of princes. Apparently all of Asgard was on the brink of destruction, and we were saved in the nick of time! They are so handsome, think on't! Moreover, one is strong, and one is clever, and would be no surprise if they delivered us this day." Her voice rose in volume as a rider astride an eight-legged horse cantered down the avenue. "And here is Prince Loki now. Some say he is a black villain, but what would I not give for a bit of that villainy in my bed…"

The girl stopped speaking and gasped as Loki drew up his horse. Leaping from the saddle, he strode up to Natasha, knelt, and held out his hands. "Your wrist! By the Gods, let me see this instant. No, do not argue - we only have moments left to us."

Natasha closed her lips, offered her arm. She staggered with weariness, and he pressed his lips to the final rune. For a moment neither of them moved, and she felt something uncurl in her heart, like a tiny plant ready to grow at the approach of spring. Finally he looked and whispered, "The mark. It is disappearing."

"Is it?" Natasha felt a bolt of relief course through her. "That is - oh crap, I don't even have the words." She frowned at him. "But, Loki, how did you know I was here?"

"Freya told me the instant you arrived." His words throbbed with passion. "Climb up on Sleipnir with me now, and we can talk further inside the palace." He cast a look over her and grinned. "You resemble a wet cat, darling."

She opened her mouth to argue, but it was too late. Loki had already picked her up, tossed her into the saddle, and mounted behind her before she could say a word. The crowd's cheers rose to a roar as he turned the horse and leaned over Natasha's shoulder to rise in the stirrups and urge Sleipnir to a full gallop.

* * *

"I see it still smells like spice and leather in here." Wrapped in a huge towel, Natasha looked out over the tiny garden from the balcony; Loki had transported them there as soon as Sleipnir was back in his stall.

He grimaced and ran one hand through his long hair. "Out with it," he demanded. "Tell me your thoughts and what you plan to do next."

She couldn't help giving him a small smile. "So you may argue and cajole, and in the end win me round as you always knew you would?"

Loki's eyes glittered, and he took a small step towards her before he stopped. With one tiny shake of his head, he declared, "No. I will allow you to have free will in this decision. It is too important to me – and to you as well."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "That is surprisingly mature from you. Dude, have you  _met_  you? Okay, here's the deal. I came here, quite honestly, with the intention of kicking your ass at least one last time. However, it has been pointed out to me by my niece of all people that the Petrovitch Foundation you set up is doing a great deal of good. And she further says the good we  _do_  can outweigh the things we  _say._  And by 'we' I mean 'you', Loki."

"Yes, I get that." Loki began to grin, and her heart stuttered at the sight of his signature smile. "Remind me to send your niece a very large wedding present when she finally marries the archer. However, let us return to this 'kicking your ass' idea, and by 'your ass' I mean 'my ass'. Why were you going to do that exactly? And just how were you going to bring it about?"

"Loki." Natasha put out one arm to ward him off as he approached, backing her into the heavy balcony enclosure. "You  _cannot_  hate all of mortality, or I will refuse to stay with you. I will have to return to Midgard if this does not change."

He captured her against the wall and put his arms on either side, effectively imprisoning her against his chest. "And if so, I will return to your world with you. We will be married as you have already promised me, and we will live in a small house in what I believe is called a 'hood'. I will even learn to burn the meat on the outside fire device."

She felt a snort of laughter in her nose. "Do you mean a barbecue?"

"Yes. I will learn Barbecue. And by the by, I do not hate all mortality – I only hate  _yours_. For one day it will take you away from my side, and no amount of begging Heimdall and the All-Father will return you to me." His breath surged against her ear as he whispered, "And that day will be the end of Loki of Asgard. I have already spoken to Thor about it."

Natasha covered her face with her hands for a moment. When she removed them, Loki was staring at her with those intense green eyes, waiting for her answer. "Hurry, darling," he urged. "It is taking all of my will to hold myself back, so close to you here."

She could feel him nearly vibrating next to her. Cautiously she laid the flats of her palms on his chest and sighed with surrender. "I can't imagine you doing poker and taco nights, although I would like to visit Midgard and perhaps go dancing with you again. That was fun."

"In your silver dress." He put one hand on her hip and moved his fingertips sensually over the smooth, wet fabric of her skirt. "Darling Natasha, my own life, marry me. Say yes to me now, and I will arrange our wedding this very night."

"Tonight! That's a bit sudden, isn't it? Don't we have to find bards and lute-players and all that – Mmmmm!"

Her words were cut off as Loki captured her lips with his, bending her backwards over the balcony with the force of his passion. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she framed his face with her hands to eagerly kiss him back.

In one of his quick movements, he broke away and seized her arm. "Now," he panted. "You and I have waited long enough, and I will not stand another moment. Let us inform the queen and the All-Father our wedding is tonight."

"You might allow me to catch my breath first," she grouched as she was towed out of the suite of rooms into the large, imposing hall leading to the rest of the palace. "But none of that banquet deal – I refuse to listen to long histories and endless odes. We'll never make it through the night."

Loki began to laugh as he quickened his pace. "Natasha, in that you and I are entirely agreed."

* * *

Although Odin blustered and protested, Natasha stood firm. The party was to be a picnic under the stars, as she had wanted all along, with wine and what Frigga called a simple meal. That meant they had only seven courses instead of the usual eleven, but Natasha promised the cooks a huge tip if they could add extra desserts and enough venison to the menu to keep Volstagg happy.

Both gods protested the wedding ceremonies should last three days at least, and Natasha waved one hand in acquiescence. "Feel free to drink, eat, and dance for as long as you wish," she declared. "Personally, I've been sitting all night on a sidewalk in Lithuania, so I'll be heading to bed after dinner."

"With a torch-led procession leading the way for you and my son," Odin proclaimed. "It marks the beginning of the legal vows between you."

"It is indeed the custom," Loki murmured. "And I am certain Hogun and Sif in particular will have many loud, warm comments as we proceed."

At least she had secured the simple party she wanted. Natasha nodded and turned to follow Loki to her chambers. "However, I refuse to wear any veils or trains. Sorry, but I'm keeping it simple from now on."

"No bridal-crown?" Frigga rose to accompany them.

"Odin's Beard, those things look like the contents of Sleipnir's trough dumped on top of a maiden's head. Just give her a silver kransen circlet, and that can be her crown," Loki argued.

"Very well. At least it is Frigga's Day, although there have been no dowry negotiations…"

"Oh, that's easy." Natasha threaded her arm through Frigga's elbow. "Everything I have in the world is now ours and thus, by extension, yours. I think it amounts to my weapons, a box of old photos, and some half-hearted 401K accounts."

* * *

As she emerged from her bath attended by Frigga, Sif, and Jane, Natasha was handed a large box. "Your wedding dress," Soames murmured, "sent by your future husband."

"This should be interesting," Jane said. "Ooh, look at that!"

Natasha lifted the lid and held up a plain dress designed with the same severe, square neckline as the black velvet gown she had been give before. This one was the color of the moss by the forest waterfall where Loki had given her the silver ring, with a tight bodice and long sleeves. She prepared to put it on, but the dresser interrupted her. "Nay, let me," the woman insisted.

Her expert hands pulled the seams and adjusted the buttons so the neckline and hem lay perfectly. Frigga looked at her in silence for a moment and shook her head. "Never have I seen a lovelier bride, my dear Natasha. Loki will be eclipsed."

"And your hair will be unbound and uncovered, as tradition dictates," Soames sniffed. "You really should have a host of gold chains and bracelets, but 'twould seem you refuse."

"I'm good," Natasha insisted. She slipped her feet into a pair of matching shoes, built low across the toes and high in the heels. "And you can stop giggling at me, Jane – you're next."

"To remind you of your inner kinght." Sif stepped forward and handed her a box. Within was a circle of silver with a tiny sword to pin it to her dress.

"A wearable weapon - perfect!" Natasha held up the lovely object. "I'm going to put it on right now – here, help me out." When it was fixed, she grasped Sif's arms and gave her a kiss on both cheeks.

"And this is from me and Thor," Jane added.

"Okay, stop!" Natasha laughed and opened the silk ribbons. Inside was an elaborate garter, with real valenciennes and blue rosettes. Instantly she blushed, and even Frigga joined in the laughter.

"Loki's going to love that." Jane lifted the hem of the dress, ignoring a scandalized protest from Soames, and held out the ribbon so Natasha could step into it. "Something blue, and all that."

"Oh, crap. I didn't even think about that. What can I borrow?" Natasha looked wildly around. "What's old? I have a ton of new stuff here, thanks to you, and Jane's covered the blue thing…"

"Here." Frigga removed her earrings and held them out. "They once belonged to my own mother, and they are indeed very old."

"I'll be really careful, and you'll get them back after the wedding. Help me keep an eye on them, Jane, and nudge me if one looks loose."

"It is time." Soames made a sweeping gesture as though to shoo them all out of the room.

* * *

Loki, standing next to Thor under the hastily-erected bower, felt his heart hammer as though it would leave his chest. "Do you see her yet?" he muttered to his brother.

"No. Not now, and not the other fifteen times you asked. I promise I will advise you when the Lady Natasha nears – oh, wait. Here she comes."

"Thor. Am I doing the right thing?" In a panic, Loki felt for his brother's hand. "Am I subjecting this poor girl to a lifetime of misery at my side?"

"Nay. I have seen your eyes light up whenever she walks into a room, and this bodes well for your love – and your life." With a pleased chuckle, Thor pulled Loki close for an extended embrace.

"All right, that is enough," Loki snapped. "Let go of me, you idiot."

"I love you too," Thor replied calmly.

The assembled gods fell silent as Natasha, on Odin's arm, approached the brothers. She found Loki's eyes and held them, but there was a slight blush on her cheeks, made more evident by the contrast of the moss-colored gown. He had never seen anything lovelier in his life.

Smiling, she reached his side and they clasped hands. Loki felt a rushing in his ears as though he were about to fall into a faint; from a far distance he heard his own voice give a set of vows he had written weeks earlier. He promised eternal love. He told her she was what brought him back to the land of the living. She was his star, his friend, his refuge in a storm.

"Loki, I accept these promises and pledge you my troth," Natasha replied. "We have been through the darkness together and emerged victorious on the other side. And I say to you now, in front of this company and your family, that I love you for what you are – for every facet of what makes you Loki, the god of mischief and lies. Truly my life was a sadder, duller affair before you flashed into it – barely a life at all. You have seen every portion of what I am and loved me, and I say now I do the same. You are my husband, my love, and my life. And this is the last time I'll ever talk romance, so I hope you enjoyed it."

He could barely see the glorious face in front of his as she spoke the words. Not waiting for the signal to proceed, Loki stepped forth, lifted Natasha by her waist, and kissed her full on the lips in front of the crowd.

"Skoal!" Thor shouted. "To the marriage of Loki and Natasha!"

"To Loki and Natasha!" Frigga echoed, along with Jane and Sif. Even Freya, wiping a tear from her eye, joined in the wild cheers.

Loki set Natasha on the ground and held out his arm. "It is time for our marriage feast, love. However, do not expect to…"

"To stay very long?" She gave him her secret smile and took his arm. "Let me know the instant we can rush away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go in this book. The final part of the Natasha of Asgard trilogy is almost complete; it is called The Cavern of Time and I should be finished with it soon.


	26. Loki's Castle

As the moons climbed in the sky, Natasha leaned forward in her chair and finished her glass of wine. She hadn't eaten all day, and the liquid went to her head with unusual speed; the Black Widow was used to downing a lot of alcohol before she felt any effects. However, she had a theory that wine in Asgard was a lot stronger than the grape juice from her own realm.

Or perhaps it wasn't the wine. She could feel Loki next to her, hear his breath, feel every movement he made. She didn't dare to touch him, to even glance in his direction. Their enforced celibacy and recent reunion made every motion, each instant a torturous delight, and she knew he felt the same way.

Truth be told, the tiny distance between them nearly enhanced the tension instead of easing it. At one point Natasha curled her hand around her wineglass and Loki put his right next to hers, so closely she could feel the slightly cool temperature his skin always projected. Her breath caught in her throat, and she heard a slight gasp from him.  _We'll never make it through the night if I can't hold a damn glass of wine,_  she thought.  _And dancing? How will we survive that?_

Despite the erotic torture, it was a beautiful night. The stars and planets wheeled overhead, visible through the leaves of the trees. Lanterns hung from the branches, and the scent of freshly mown hay and an Asgardian blossom like lavender blew through the garden.

"This was a delightful idea!" Freya leaned forward to speak to Natasha. "So much lovelier than another long banquet. On such a night, 'twould be a crime to stay inside the Palace, would it not?"

"In truth I care not as long as the supply of meat does not slow down." Volstagg beckoned to a passing steward and picked up what looked like the entire leg of a stag in one hand so he could gnaw on it.

"Have you thought about where we shall go?"

Startled, Natasha looked at Loki. His eyebrows were raised slightly as he repeated the question. "This evening? I know we're supposed to head up to your state rooms, but I was rather hoping you could use your magic to spirit us to you-know-where."

Loki bent closer to whisper in her ear. "My dungeon rooms, which have become our little piece of Valhalla. That goes without saying - Hogun can go and bellow rude songs outside my Palace suite, and meanwhile you and I shall be far away, blissfully unaware. However, I actually meant in the future. Our future. Is there any chance I could win you to my side at my castle?"

"You have a castle?" Natasha turned in surprise to face him. "Well, aren't you tricky?"

"Many have told me so," Loki said with a smirk, and she began to laugh.

"Of course I will travel there with you. But – an entire castle? When were you planning to tell me this?"

"Do not be impressed. The land is lovely, situated between a river and the Sea of Marmora, but the entire estate has been sadly neglected. I hoped to introduce it to you as a new project of sorts to occupy your very considerable energies." With those words he gave her a wink. Natasha felt her cheeks heat up, wet warmth between her legs. The scene in front of her wavered as though she were watching it from underwater.

His expression changed, assuming a speculative, predatory air. "Natasha. I feel the same way," he whispered in her ear. "Gods, that this eternal feast should be over…"

As if the mutual understanding of their desire had broken some sort of dam, Loki moved very close to her so they were seated thigh to thigh, and he propped his arm on the back of her chair. Not caring for the amused glances in their direction, Natasha tipped up her face to smile at him. "This is nice," she admitted. "I like being within your circle of leather and metal – it makes me feel protected. Usually I am the one being the guard."

"Best become accustomed to it," he warned. "After the events of the past few days, I will make certain nothing ever harms you again."

She gestured to the long lawns slightly with her head. "I think we have to go and open the dancing."

"Mm. I suppose we must." Holding her hand, he led her to the grass where a few musicians were starting a slow, lyrical music of a sort Natasha had never heard before. The moves required his arm around her waist, hers locked around his neck, on her tiptoes to bring his face close to hers. She felt she was drowning in a brilliant green sea.

The guests filed to the arena and joined them. Under the cover of so many people – gods, Aesir, and humans, Loki moved her gently but firmly to the cover of the deep shadows by the trees' edge. "What are you doing?" Natasha asked in a voice brimming with distrust.

"No one can see us over here. I planned an escape, of course, before Fandral starts in on the bawdy songs."

"But isn't that against royal etiquette?"

"No. I bribed Thor to announce his own engagement – now." There was a roar of approval from the dance floor. "They will all be too busy for the next few minutes to see what you and I are doing."

"I still feel as though I'm waltzing out on everyone…"

"Nonsense, darling. This is not a waltz."

She couldn't help her lips twitching. "That's not what I meant at all. As the entire reason for the gathering, I am certain you and I should stay for a bit longer. And – oh, you can't bite my neck to convince me. That's not fair."

"No?" He blew in her ear. "Better?"

"No."

"This?" Loki glanced deviously at the Aesir in the grass, whirling to the music, and stole a long, open-mouthed kiss.

When it ended, she threw her head back with a gasp. "Fuck it, let's get the hell out of this place  _now."_

"Ah. I quite agree. It is time, little one."

* * *

In their own room, the orchestra of mice played a soft tune Natasha didn't recognize. She accepted the glass of wine Loki handed her and sat on the bed. When he approached with a wicked smile on his face, she held out one arm. "Don't destroy this dress by ripping it off me. It's my wedding gown after all, and who knows? Maybe one day we will have a daughter who will want to wear it."

His eyes widened, and cautiously he edged close to her on the bed. "Do you think that is a possibility?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I've learned not to count anything out where you're concerned – I'd imagine your boys can swim faster than Michael Phelps. Anyway, if it happens it happens, and if not, then we'll just keep rebuilding palaces and going on adventures. And junk like that." Natasha held up her glass, and he touched it with the rim of his own.

"And 'junk like that'. The bards themselves could not put it any better." Loki allowed her to drink before firmly removing her glass from her hand, and she felt her pulse race as he started to unbutton her gown. "Since I am not allowed to rip this one off, I will take great care. Do not, however, expect such consideration in the future."

"I should hope not. I married the god of mischief, after all, not the god of folded napkins and thank-you notes…" Loki stopped her with a kiss, and he turned her to sit on his lap as he continued to undo her gown with his arms around her.

Natasha started to work on his shirt, and at last they knelt, palm to palm, skin to skin on the large bed. Loki's eyes glowed with desire; she knew hers did as well. They swayed for a moment, measuring each other and playing with their wantonness. Loki's face spasmed with cruel lust; she felt her skin burn, her teeth grit as though she stood on the edge of a cliff ready to jump off. "I am almost afraid," he said. "Afraid of what I might do to you at this moment. I have waited for you for so long, ever since our tryst by the waterfall. Did you realize it? Not even a week's span all told, and yet it has seemed an eternity."

Her mouth opened; his did as well. The next instant he seized her in his arms, crushed her to his lips, plunged his tongue into her mouth. Natasha wrapped her legs around his waist and slid up so he could cup her breasts, suckle the tips, as she slipped her palm against the hard shaft between his legs. "Never again," Loki panted. "Never will I wait so long again to have you in our bed, hovering like this above me, so soft, so sweet, ready for me to sink him inside her."

"She's so ready for it," Natasha whispered in his ear, and she bit his neck and ran her nails over his chest, scratching his nipples and raking the flesh of his flat stomach. "Look at her, Loki." She grasped his chin and arched backwards so he could see every inch.

"Glorious. You are glorious. I knew you would be even before I had you in my arms – do you remember?" He pushed her back and spread her thighs, kissed his way down her stomach, licked her sex, worked his way back up with more kisses. "Do you remember it?" he whispered, pushing his tip to her entrance. "I recall every word between us. I offered to pleasure you in bed and you told me it would never happen, not if I were the last demigod on this or any other side of an Einstein-Rosen bridge."

Natasha laughed and shivered as slowly, torturously, he moved into her. "I remember too. Oh, Loki, that is just perfect, it's like silk and steel at once, he's so big, you're so delicious inside me, move him in and out of me, yes just like that."

"Like this?" Loki's nostrils flared, and the white line tightened above his lips as he thrust into her. "Kiss me, darling. Mmmm – delicious, you taste like wine and cinnamon, as well as your own sweet tongue. It takes my breath away…"

"I can't believe this. I can't believe it." Natasha felt her insides flutter as her orgasm drew nearer.

"What can you not believe? How nice this feels? Or that you are all mine?"

"Both." She pulled him down and sucked on his lower lip, bit his neck. "I'm so close," she whispered. "Can you feel it?"

"By the Nine realms, I can – it really feels as though she is telling him a story…Oh! Natasha!"

"Loki!" she screamed, rearing up to meet him. They shook together, groaning and clutching each other.

She felt the room spin, go quiet. His breath surged on her neck like waves during a hurricane. Her legs trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, and she was almost afraid she might faint.

After a long silence, his lips found her ear. "Never again," he repeated. "Now that you are truly mine for all ages, I will never wait so long again. It hurt me to be without you, Natasha, like walking on coals or the edge of a knife."

* * *

In her dreams, the Lady approached the bed and climbed on top. "Hello, pretty," she said as she licked Natasha's neck. "Keep sleeping, pet – do not mind me. I am just going to play with you for a little." She trailed lower, found Natasha's jittering center, and fluttered her tongue over the smooth, warm, wet flesh. "Mmm, you naughty girl, you taste so nice – of me and of your own warm flavour." Slowly she lay down between Natasha's legs and moved her thigh to slide over the slick center.

Natasha held the long black hair back from the Lady's face and raised her lips for a kiss. "That feels incredible," she whispered. "I've wanted to have you ever since you visited me in my apartment. Do you remember?"

"I told you – I remember everything." The Lady bent and bit the skin at the base of her throat, riding her like an experienced horsewoman until Natasha released in a warm wave, shivering and moaning words of love.

* * *

When she woke, Loki was already inside her again.

_Loki?_  No, it was the Jotunn. His blue face moved over hers, and carefully he laid his palms to frame her face.

"My wedding present for you," he whispered. "We must take care – this requires a great deal of magic." His face flinched with another oncoming climax, and Natasha clenched around his long, blue shaft. He was so alien, so beautiful inside her. She thought her delight would split her in two.

"May I kiss you?" she whispered. The Jotunn nodded, and she cautiously brushed her lips against his. The buzz of magic was apparent, but she could also feel the icy smoothness of his mouth moving delicately over hers.

The enchantment flittered against her clit like a snapping electric current, and she locked his red gaze with her own. "You are mine," she said. "Each reflection of you – each part – I want it all."

"Natasha, my love, my life," the Jotunn gasped. He bared his teeth in a sudden grimace, and her climax jolted her entire body. She felt his cool liquid spurt into her and gripped him with her thighs to hold him as close as she could.

Loki collapsed on top of her. When Natasha opened her eyes, it was to his Aesir form, his own mischievous smile, and a starstruck look in his eyes making her heart beat wildly. "That was my first time as a Jotunn," he whispered. "You now hold that fellow's virginity, love. Only you, Natasha."

She wound her arms to hold him as closely as she could. "My own Mischief. Did it tax your magic too much?"

"I must confess I am somewhat weary." Loki closed his eyes and grinned ruefully. "However, it was worth it."

"Think Hogun is still singing outside your empty state rooms?" Natasha asked, and Loki snickered. Her eyelashes fluttered closed. "Let's sleep for a while. Bedding the three sides of your personality has made me tired as well. But before you drift off, I have one last request."

He kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, licked her lips. "Well, darling?"

"Loki, when we move into your castle together – could I - could we – do you think - would it be all right if we got a cat?"

**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could send the Helm of Awe to emlawrence, sandram1, unbentglass, and to anyone who left kudos or simply took the time to read the story. Creation and friendship are true magic, and I have loved sharing my vision of Asgard with you.
> 
> The third volume of the series will go up in a few days: watch for The Cavern of Time. Until then, many Natasha kisses and Loki hugs.


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